Saving them all, one at a time
by Dragon-bait-2001
Summary: After the world is lost, Harry wanders to the ruins of Hogwarts and stumbles upon an unlikely ally. Finding hidden knowledge, he gains the means to return to the point before someone's death, bringing the changes in the world that may yet save it.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I do not own any characters. All rights belong to J.K.

This is my first attempt at writing a story. I'm hoping I can make it work, as I really, _really_ like my concept. My ability to make it work... well, that I'm less confident on. Anywho... this is more like a first draft. Update schedule is going to be random. This has not been Beta'd. I know it's short and not much of the plot is given. Be gentle.

* * *

He sat looking out the window into the mid-October storm. The rain falling upon the glass, obscuring the view from the high castle tower. The fire in the hearth providing ample warmth to keep the room comfortable.

"Father," the girl sitting in the chair next to him, staring at him with sadness in her eyes, the corners beginning to form tears. "Are you sure this course of action is wise? I fear what could happen."

"My little Caisteil, we've been alone for far too long. If anything happens, you will endure. We may not be as alone as we think. Perhaps, somewhere, there is still somebody left, somebody to hear our story. I must make the attempt. If this works, we will be able to change everything."

Turning his gaze back towards the girl, his weathered hands reaching for hers, trying to offer the small figure some comfort. He hated to see her cry. He would be the first to admit it, ever since the day she came into his life, she had him wrapped around her finger. She may not be his flesh and blood, but he couldn't help thinking of this girl as his daughter.

"Father, I do not fear being alone. I fear that if you are successful, I will not be there, that I will not come to pass. That I will not, be me."

He pulled the little girl, looking no more than 11 years old, into a tight embrace. "No matter how this ends, I will find you. Tell you what, the weather is supposed to be beautiful tomorrow, how 'bout a picnic by the lake and just forget about all this for a day."

Her sniffles ceding, and a smile blossoming on her face, "I'd love that!"

"But, I'd like to make the attempt to change things by Halloween. That will give us about two weeks to check everything."

Gently rubbing Caisteil's back and looking upon the three object sitting on the table amid copious amounts of notes, the man thought back upon his life, thinking about those whom he felt could save. The Arithmancy showed that by saving these people, it would make things better, it would save the world.

At some point during his musings, the girl fell asleep. Gently rising and putting her to bed, the man returned to the table. 'Two weeks,' he thought. 'Two weeks and I'll take up the Hallows. Two weeks and I take up the mantle of Master of Death. Two more weeks until Harry Potter goes back to the point of death, to save them. What better day than Halloween, the day of the dead?'


	2. An Caisteal'

**A/N:** Of course, I own nothing of Harry Potter…

* * *

It really was a nice day for a picnic. A brilliantly bright blue sky, with the occasional fluffy white cloud drifting by. Not too warm, with a gentle breeze that made the leaves in the trees rustle in a relaxing chorus. The Black Lake reflecting the light of the midday sun.

Harry glanced towards Caisteal, the small girl who alleviated the loneliness and kept his madness away. Watching as the wind gently blew through her grey-blonde hair as she stared at him. She was watching him with eyes full of concern and worry. She was here, alive, and a wonderful companion all these years.

Looking up at the premier school of magic, his current home, he began to reflect back.

When he returned for the first time since being a first year student, there wasn't much left. The towering spires that made up the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw dormitories were gone, reduced to rubble spread out on the ground. The astronomy tower was recognizable, but was blown open and the staircase to ascend was demolished. Harry estimated that over 90% of the castle had been completely destroyed.

He spent the first couple of days in the small antechamber just off what used to be the great hall. It was a room that was mostly intact, offering shelter from the elements. After finally getting himself settled, Harry started to explore what was left of the school. There were many places and things he could recognize and several oddities.

Over there was the undamaged gargoyle that sat in front of the headmaster's office. The doors to what used to be the great Hogwarts library were on the ground still closed, intact but slightly charred from fire. The trophy case was still standing, glass intact, displaying all the accomplishments of past students. He even found a ring of sinks from a bathroom still standing, and, to Harry's surprise, functional.

The oddest thing to Harry, was the corridor that was still intact, untouched by the cataclysm that befell the castle. What made it even more strange was that this corridor used to be on the seventh floor. Now it was resting on the ground among the rubble. The only reason Harry knew it was from the seventh floor was the painting on the wall. Every student that went to Hogwarts knew of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy, the wizard trying to teach trolls ballet.

He smiled and looked over to Caisteal, it was there where he found her.

* * *

He was going mad. He knew he was. He'd been alone for so long. Despite his preference for solitude, humans are still social creatures and need the company of others. He didn't realize he had started doing it, but it started small. He'd walk by and utter a simple, "Hey" to the wizard in the tapestry. A few weeks later, he had named the trolls.

Bob and Steve were the ones doing pirouettes. Oz was fully dressed in a tutu, and appeared to be wearing makeup. Gretta and Irma appeared to be attempting to murder Barnabas while he wasn't looking. Finally, there was Jingo the Mighty, Destroyer of all Things, he was sleeping.

Another month after naming the trolls, he started critiquing their ballet, despite himself not knowing anything about the subject. He'd then start arguing with Barnabas about the proper ways to teach the trolls. He became highly agitated during one of his one-sided debates, as the barmy wizard never listened to his advice.

Pacing past the tapestry, trying to get his point across, gesticulating wildly with his arms:

"Bob and Irma should be doing the lifts. You got them in the background being trees!" Harry paused, looked at the picture, shook his head and walked the other way.

"No, no, no! Oz has the _least_ talent, he should be in the background, not in the foreground for all to see. He can't even do a simple plié, by Merlin!" Stopping, turning around again, and listening to the voices only he could hear.

"See! Even Jingo agrees with me. Thank you Jingo, why don't you take a 10 minute break."

At this point, a plain wooden door appeared in the wall behind Harry. After a lengthy verbal attack, exasperated with his failure, and loss of the argument, he turned around.

"Hey Steve, you seein' this? Was this here before?"

….

"Well of course I'm seeing things, Oz, I'm mad, not blind."

.…

"Your concern is nice, but I doubt there's much danger behind a closed door in a ruined castle."

.…..

"Never saw that movie. You know I never got into horror movies, I prefer a good comedy."

…...

"Hahaha, you're right. All I'm missing is the fedora, and a whip."

…

"Your right, it could be fun to recreate that scene. But I'm not going to risk my life running from a 600 lbs boulder for your amusement. Besides, the largest rock we have is like 50 lbs, and its not even round."

…...

"Eww Greta, thanks. Now I can't get that image out of my head. I mean really, assless chaps? PLEASE, for the love of Merlin, keep your fantasies to yourself."

…

"Stop! Just, stop! I'm done talking. Can I go check behind the creepy door now? Yes? Thank You."

Harry slowly crossed the corridor. Approaching the door, he he ran his hands along the wooden surface. It sure felt real enough. He knocked, hearing the echo that signified a large, empty space behind. That surprised him. He knew that there was nothing behind the wall, just open field with rubble strewn about. Many moments passed before he finally gathered up his courage and opened the door.

The room was large, but not overly massive. It was also dark. Harry wouldn't have been able to see the walls if it wasn't for the faint light of the torches affixed to them. Cautiously, Harry entered. Slowly his eyes adjusted to the dim. In the center of the room was a small figure, sitting on a three legged milking stool. He first thought she was a porcelain doll. Her skin was alabaster, and her gray-blonde hair falling to the middle of her back. She was wearing a charcoal grey colored sundress. He didn't think she could've been more than five, maybe six years old. She didn't seem to move, sitting serenely.

As he approached, her eyes shot open, looking right into his. He stood, shocked at the sight of her irises. They were a kaleidoscope of colors, beautiful in their complexity, no one color more prominent than another, constantly shifting. They were a stark contrast to her grayish hair and dress. Looking into her eyes he could almost feel her gaze upon him, judging him, deep into the depths of his soul.

In his nervousness, he squeaked out, "Hi." Clearing his throat and trying to sound more manly, tried again. "Hello, my dear."

Her answer, in a melodic voice that would become the balm to his madness, simply answered, "Hello, Father."

It was at that point, Harry saw no more. He had fainted.

* * *

Harry awoke confused. He was laying in a four-poster bed, with curtains blocking his view past that. He couldn't remember how he got into a bed, or even where there was a bed. He had made the floor of the antechamber as comfortable as he could, but you could only do so much with grasses and leaves. He slowly sat up, trying to gather his thoughts. He eye shot wide once his mind was in order. Tearing open the drapes, he saw the stool, empty.

"Feeling better?" That same melodic voice asked next to his left. Startled, Harry flew off the bed, arms and legs flailing in the air, landing on the stone floor.

"Wha? Wh-how? Wha? Who?" Harry asked eloquently. The girl started giggling at Harry. "Ok, i know i've gone a bit 'round the bend'. But I appear to have completely circled it. I walk through a door that should lead to nowhere, only to find myself in this room, with," his eyes following the girl as she walked around the bed to stand next to him. "You. Who are you? Where did you come from? How did you survive? Where are your parents?"

She offered her hand, and helped pull him off the ground. "Relax, Father. I will answer your questions as best I can." She pulled him over towards the center of the room, her stool no longer there. As they moved, two leather, high back chairs materialized, facing each other. She guided him to the chair on the left and she sat in the chair to the right. "Now that we are settled, I will answer."

"Ok, I guess I'll start with the easy one. Who are you?"

"I am Hogwarts"

He stared at her, he wasn't expecting that. "Huh?"

She giggled at him again. "Father, I am the personified body of Hogwarts castle." He was still staring.

"You're Hogwarts?"

"Yes, Father"

He was _still_ staring at her. "What do I call you?"

"I am Hogw-" "Stop!" he cut her off.

"Stop. I get it. You are Hogwarts,' Harry rubbed his forehead with his thumb and index finger, "But Hogwarts is a castle, you are a little girl. You are not a castle. I'm not going to call you Hogwarts, okay?" Taking a deep breath to settle himself, "Do you have another name, something else people call you?"

She though for a bit before answering, "I have vague memories of The Originals calling me 'an caisteal' before naming me Hogwarts."

"The Originals?"

"I believe you would call them the Founders. Four amazing witches and wizards. Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, Godric Gryffindor, and Salazar Slytherin."

Harry's eyes drifted up in thought, "Alright, I like Caisteal. I guess I could call you that. Does that work for you?"

"If it pleases you."

Harry thought about it, nodding, "It does. It does seem to fit you." He paused and gave the newly minted Caisteal a quizzical look. " I don't suppose Caisteal means anything?"

"It's Gaelic; it means castle."

Harry was dumbfounded at that revelation, before facepalming. "Of course it does. Why wouldn't it. Alright, moving on. Where are we? What is this place?"

"We are inside me." He blanched at her answer.

"STOP, please stop! You mean we are inside Hogwarts?" He held up his hand to stop her answer, "Yes, yes, we got it, you _are_ Hogwarts. How about going forward, we refer to to the brick and mortar of the castle as Hogwarts, and we keep you Caisteal. Can we _please_ keep them seperate.

"I can do that, Father"

"Ok good. Next question, why do you keep calling me Father?"

"Because you brought me into being. You are my father."

This answer caused Harry to roll his eyes, "Well that makes sense, about as much sense as my buddy out there teaching trolls ballet. Could you elaborate on that a bit?"

"This room is the one of the greatest achievements of the Founders. Rowena and Godric did the most of the charms and transfiguration work. Helga and Salazar did the mind work." At this point, Harry's eyes started to glaze over. "Let me explain what this room is. The house elves called it the 'Come and Go Room.' Godric wanted to call it 'The Useful Room.' The other three laughed at him. Salazar thought it was too simple. Rowena decided on 'The Room of Requirement. ' All three agreed on that. Basically,this room can become whatever you want."

"Wow! That's amazing. How does it work?"

"You walk past the tapestry three times, thinking about what you want the room to be. The Room is then created based on the image in your head."

Ideas on what he could use the room for left Harry sitting there, mouth agape. "So that's how I get the room to work, how does the room get the image from my head?"

At this question, the little girl frowned and looked down. "I don't remember. I used to have that knowledge, but my… Hogwarts' destruction has taken the knowledge from me. I do know that Salazar imbued the tapestry with basic legilimency to take the image from your mind, but the actual magical process is lost to me"

"I don't understand. If you can't remember how it works, how do you know what the Founders did to create it?"

"To explain that, we have to go back to the creation of the castle itself. Once they finished the main structure, the Founders wanted to make sure the castle would be safe, last, and be as self-sustained as possible. They each created a room. Inside each of the rooms, they hid a rune stone and tied it directly to one of the seven ley lines that converge under me, er, Hogwarts. After completing their own tasks, they again pooled their resources and knowledge to the main ward stone. Despite what it sounds like, this stone was not used to power the wards around the grounds, instead, the Founders used it to power Hogwarts itself."

"How does that work? How do you power a building? You don't mean powered, like with electricity?"

Caisteal paused a bit at that question. "I guess a little bit like that, and yet, so much more. In creating the main rune stone, the Founders used every bit of magic they knew. This included blood and soul magic." This proclamation shocked Harry. He was told those branches of magic were dark, but here, Hogwarts herself was explaining how they were used in her creation.

Harry felt the conversation was moving away from what he wanted to know. He abruptly cut her off, "What does this have to do with powering the castle? With you?"

"By specially using those two branches of magic, the Founders were able to give the castle a basic, awareness, if you will. Also, a bit of their personalities bled into the fledgling consciousness. Godric's playful nature resulted in the moving staircases. Rowena's wonder created the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall. Salazar's cunning left us with all those hidden and secret tunnels and passageways. Helga's nurturing persona provided the castle with an aura of comfort. Her nature is the reason none of the children ever felt homesick. As far as how that relates to me, they passed their memories, their hopes, and their dreams of what they wanted the school to become, those things became a part of me."

"What happens to those dreams now that the castle is gone?"

Caisteal gave Harry a look that make him feel dumb, "Father, Hogwarts is not gone."

Feeling like he needed to defend his point, "But the castle is destroyed. There's not much left."

With a knowing smirk, she replied, "And that is Hogwarts' biggest secret. The greatest achievement of the Founders. It is how the castle survived for over a millennium. This isn't the first time the castle has been damaged, but it is the first time it has taken so long to repair itself."

Getting confused, all Harry could come up with was an eloquent, "Huh?"

"Oh, wizards helped putting it back together, but they never noticed that things were fixed without their assistance. That is what I mean by 'so much more' when it came to powering the castle. The main rune stone uses the power of the seven ley lines to ensure the castle can endure. This is the third time the castle has been reduced to rubble. What makes this time unique, is that the ley lines themselves have been damaged and are in a state of flux. It is limiting how much magic the rune stone can pull out and use. Once the ley lines settle down, the castle repairs will be more noticable."

Realization dawned on Harry, "That's why the astronomy tower is standing! It's being rebuilt."

Sheepishly, with a bit of a blush, Caisteal nodded, "It's my favorite room. I enjoyed listening to the professors talk about the stars, planets, and galaxies that exist beyond this world." Feeling like she needed to explain, she continued,"Father, I am a castle, sentient, but stationary. Until your need for companionship while walking past the tapestry, I had no form. This is the first time I am able to move, to interact. I find the experience both terrifying and exhilarating."

While contemplating another revelation, Harry watched as Caisteal began to yawn. "Maybe we should call it a day and get some rest. You appear to need it. Sleep will do us both some good, and I could use some time to go over some of the things you've told me."

Proving he wasn't done being surprised, she replied, "I'm looking forward to sleep. I've never done it before. I haven't had a body that needed it."

Harry stood from his chair, muscles a bit stiff from sitting so long. He reached out and helped Caisteal from her chair, both disappearing once no longer needed. Getting a new thought, he asked another question, "What are the limitations of the room? I only ask because I'd like to take a shower and stop 'going' in the woods."

Behind Harry, tiled walls appeared with a door in the center. Caisteal spun Harry around, and with a giggle, gave Harry a push. "The room can provide you with anything you need except food. Conjured items; however, cannot exist outside of the room. Anything created in here, must stay in here. Now, go enjoy your shower, maybe take a bath? Just go, relax. I will be here when you are finished."

Harry entered the tiled room to see a full bathroom. A large shower that could easily had room for five, a sunken tub that would seat eight, and a wardrobe that contained large fluffy towels and a set of pajamas. After a 10 minute shower and a 20 minute soak in the bath, as well as handling other necessities, Harry exited the bathroom. His shock, this time, did not come from the changes in the room, but more for the lack of changes. The bed he woke up from earlier was still there, with Caisteal sitting on the edge, obviously waiting for him. "Come Father, the land of Nod awaits you."

Her words were like a spell. As soon as Harry heard them, he realized he was exhausted. While the conversation was not taxing physically, the mental toll took its effect. By the time his head hit the pillow, he eyes were already half closed. Just before he completely drifted off, he felt a small weight settle in the bed next to him, and a quiet voice whisper, "Rest well, Father. There is much to do if we are to fix everything."


	3. Room with a View

**A/N:** So trying to write a story, really gives me a much bigger respect to those who do it well. Thanks to Ozzie from LeadVonE's discord server for giving my work a quick look over.

I wasn't expecting to write a long story, but it's looking like it might turn into one. I hope you'll join me for the ride.

Usual legalities; I do not own HP.

* * *

Harry awoke the next morning, at least he believed it was morning. At that thought, the room provided a window to the outside world that allowed the light of dawn to illuminate the space. It wasn't until he opened his eyes; however, that he noticed the small mass sleeping in the bed next to him. As he moved, Caisteal snuggled in closer. "What an interesting experience," she said. "That was the first time since the Founders finished the main rune stone that I have not been fully aware of what was happening around the grounds."

"How does that work? How can you be asleep and aware?"

"Father, you need to remember. I am nothing more than a magical construct created by the Room of Requirement. While I appear to be a small, female; I am the castle that resides around us."

"It is hard to remember that when looking at a little girl. Now, if you will excuse me for a bit, I'm going to need to make use of that wonderful bathroom from last night," and with that proclamation, the bathroom appeared again. 30 minutes later, Harry emerged from the bathroom feeling refreshed and wearing new clothes provided by the Room. Looking at Caestial, he noticed she looked very uncomfortable, shifting her weight from one leg to another rather quickly. "Are you alright?"

"I am not sure. Having a body like this one, it has many odd... feelings about it. Right now, I am feeling pressure here," she pointed just below her belly button. "I am unaccustomed to what that means."

Harry tried not to laugh. He really did, but the idea of this little girl, not understanding need need to pee, it set him off. After a minute, he finally explained to her, "My dear, I think you may be a bit more than a magical construct. It appears the Room has made your body more real than you realize. It's your turn to use the bathroom."

She gave him a quizzical look, then quickly dashed into the bathroom. After a minute, Harry walked over, and through the door he said, "Might want to take a shower or a bath. You might enjoy that experience as well."

After 30 minutes, he considered checking in on her, but the thought of a thousand year old, sentient castle, that probably wouldn't care about modesty stopped him. A little over an hour after she disappeared into the bathroom, she emerged, wearing a gray sundress, with pink climbing roses embroidered from the left hem, to her right shoulder. She had her arms wrapped protectively around her abdomen, "Well, that was truly a unique event, and the bath was a wonderful experience; but now my middle keeps grumbling."

"Well, sounds like somebody needs some food, and since the Room cannot provide that, I'm going to have to go outside." Harry started towards the door, but a memory of the day before popped into his head giving him pause. He looked down at his Room generated clothes. "Caisteal, you said items created cannot leave the Room, not that there's anyone to see, but I don't plan on going starkers."

"Father, those are the clothes you were wearing when you entered the Room. They have been transfigured, and that magic will hold for a long time."

"Whew, that's a relief. Now, my understanding that if the door closes, the Room 'resets'. If I keep it propped open, is this, are you going to disappear?"

"Keeping the door open should 'lock in' the current configuration."

"Good, good. Alright, I should be back in…. about an hour." Then adding some mirth to his voice, "If I'm not back in two, send out the search party."

"I cannot leave the room. I am created purely by the magic of the room. But I will be here when you get back."

And with that, Harry opened the door and returned to the outside world. Quickly grabbing a rock, he used the weight to hold the door open, and just in case that one failed, stuck another one in the door jam. He quickly made his way back to the antechamber that used to be his room and gathered up the supplies he had left there. Heading down by the Forbidden Forest, he found one of his snare traps had caught a rabbit. Making sure to properly field dress the carcass, he then headed into to forest a bit to the grove of fruit trees he had found. Collecting a dozen pieces of fruit, he started heading back. Curiosity grabbing his attention, he made a quick detour to the Astronomy tower. Just like Caisteal had said; there was at least another flight of stairs that wasn't there when he first arrived at the ruins. The whole trip took about 40 minutes.

Re-entering the Room, he found Caisteal, once again, sitting in the middle of the room on the same three-legged milking stool. Once he started to approach her, another wall and door shimmered into existence about ten feet behind her. She rose from the stool as he walked past and followed him through the door, behind which contained a large kitchen. It had all the amenities that a modern kitchen had. Placing the provisions on the table provided by the Room, he turned to Caisteal, "I know you told me what this Room can do, but it still amazes me."

"Well," pointing to the foodstuffs on the table, "you and the Room have just solved your long term food issues. As I have explained, it's impossible to make food out of nothing. You can, however, summon it if you know where it is, you can transform it, and you can increase the quantity if you've already got some. The quality will start to suffer over time, you can only copy something so many times, but that can easily be overcome with a influx of fresh food. Every time you duplicate something, a little is lost. In the case of food, you lose the nutritional value. Now, the house-elves used the same trick to keep all the students fed. So, what are you going to make us to eat!"

"I can't make too much with what I have here. I'd like to make a full English breakfast..." It was at that point the food supplies on the table vanished. A small thump was heard in the icebox. Caestial smirked at Harry. He opened the door to the chest to find everything he needed to make the breakfast he wanted.

"I love magic," was all Harry could say.

In no time Harry had two plates filled with sausage and eggs, with two cups of tea. Sitting down at the table, he was all set to dig in, but he noticed Caestial's hesitation. She noticed him looking at her, "I've never eaten before."

After taking a small bite, he supplied a reassuring answer, "Might as well try what's in front of you. If you don't like it, I can make you something else. My relatives made me do all the cooking growing up. I know how to make all different types of meals because of that."

Nodding, she took a tiny bit of egg. Her face lit up once the taste hit her mouth, and she started eating much more feverishly. Harry chuckled and proceeded to demolish his breakfast.

"Caestial, do you mind if I ask some personal questions?" She gestured for him to continue, "Alright, first question. You, basically, are a thousand year old castle, yet the Room make a you a little girl. Do you know why?"

She nodded, "That would be two-fold. One part is due to the lack of power the ley lines can currently provide. The other is the castle itself. If the Room were to have created me before it was destroyed, with the ley lines at full power, I imagine I would have appeared as a full grown woman at the peak of health."

"Alright, next question. It was the summer after my first year when Voldemort and his lackeys started the chain of events that destroyed everything, since we'll have plenty of time, are you able to teach me more?"

"What I can teach is somewhat limited. Sitting in on classes for a millennia has allowed me to learn quite a bit about the theory of magic. However, I have not and cannot used a wand, so the practical side I cannot teach. Also, since no one ever took a mastery in the castle; I only will be able to assist you until you have the equivalent of a seventh year NEWT student. You will be able to use the library to learn from the books there."

"But the library is destr-. Right, Hogwarts is rebuilding itself."

"Actually, the library is completely intact." Harry just stared at her. "It is Rowena's room, her gift to the students of Hogwarts. The entire library exists in Wizards' space behind the doors. As long as the ley lines exist, the library exists."

"That's right, you said each Founder made a room. Do you know where and what they are?"

"Well obviously, there's the library. Rowena thought knowledge should be shared, so she didn't hide it. Helga's room only has her ward stone in it, not too exciting, huh? Salazar decided to use his room for the defense of the castle. Godric's room was used for artefact storage and study. Those three wanted to protect their rooms so they kept them a secret, even from me."

After that, the conversation became more about Caestial's history, what she had seen over the millennia. Harry really enjoyed the stories of his Professors' time in her halls. He never would've guessed that Professor Sinistra was afraid of heights or that McGonagall was a prankster.

A few days later Harry restarted his magical education at Hogwarts, but this time, he was being taught by Hogwarts. The Room turning itself into a classroom, potions lab, even a replica of the Astronomy tower greatly assisted in his learning. It was much more difficult than he thought it would be. He was never good at the theory, but thrived on the practical. Unfortunately, it was really hard to learn wand movements when the descriptions were terms like, 'swish and flick' and 'quarter turn, swish, and circle'. Never one to be deterred, he pushed through and made progress on the wand based classes.

Potions was both easier and harder than he remembered. It was easier in that it was just like cooking to him. You just follow the recipe and voila, a perfect potion. The harder part was finding the ingredients. Lucky for Harry, the Forbidden Forest held almost everything he needed. He would find out later that Helga's runestone powered an aura ensuring good growing soil and encouraging magical plants and animals to reside within the forest. The need to get his own supplies taught him much about Herbology as well and he learned a bit of Care of Magical Creatures as well.

This became the normal routine. Harry would make breakfast for both of them, then they'd have class until lunch, once again provided by Harry. A quick refresher on the morning left the evenings for a nice dinner followed by stories and games. One day a week he would go out and forage for supplies and check on the status of the castle. Caestial promised that once the Astronomy tower was fully restored, the access to the library would be the next priority.

It would take another three months until the promise was kept. The Astronomy tower was standing again, as if it was never damaged at all. The doors to the library had begun to move slowly towards the Room, back to where they resided within the castle. Over that time, Harry noticed some subtle changes to Caestial as well. Her alabaster skin gaining a bit of a rosy coloring, her hair gaining a bit more shine. He had a suspicion on what was going on with her, but he'd be keeping it to himself, for now.


	4. Eldest

**A/N:** Thank you for your reviews. Always appreciated. Thanks to sfu at LeadVonE's discord server for giving it a look over.

Alright, time for more. There are direct lines from Pottermore here, and the wiki.

Usual legalities; I do not own HP.

* * *

'Today is the day,' Harry thought determinedly. 'Today I'm going to test my theory.'

He was aware that he'd had the same thought for at least a month, he just never had the courage to test it. But now; now the library was finally going to be accessible. Not only that, but most of the dungeons and first floor had been repaired. Caisteal explained that two of the ley lines had settled down. That allowed her to pull more magic into repairing the castle, thus speeding up the reconstruction.

It had been a year since Harry first started being re-educated by Caisteal. He was surprised at the amount of progress they had made. They were now working on 4th-year material. When Harry mentioned how quickly they were moving through the material, Caisteal reminded him that they were going at his pace, and he didn't need to worry about others slowing him down, or homework. Once he understood something, they moved onto the next lesson.

They had just finished lunch when Caisteal looked up, her multi-colored eyes slightly glazed over, and announced, "Father, the Library has been restored. You now have complete access. Please be careful as there are some books that are dangerous to touch. Those particular books are in the restricted section and we have not gotten to the point in your education where you can detect and overcome the protections on them."

Harry paled at that thought of being harmed by a book. It was something he never could have considered before. Getting an idea, he smirked, "Well, I guess we'll just have to head over there and you can show me which books to avoid."

She gave an exasperated sigh, "We have gone over this, Father. My body is a magical construct. It is not real; it only can exist within the Room of Requirement." She stood up and grabbed the chair she was sitting on, moved to the door and tossed it out the open portal. Harry watched, amused, as the chair slowly faded into nothingness, the magic within dissipating. " _That!_ " she emphatically gestured to where the chair once was, "is what would happen to me if I leave."

"Wouldn't the room just recreate you?"

"I think that would be the best case outcome as I am not sure what of me would remain. I am fairly certain that my memories of our time together are tied to this body and not to the castle. I would be... reset back to the first day we met. Those memories would be gone. I believe that would be most likely to occur. Worst case scenario is that the Room would not be able to recreate this body and I would just cease to exist."

Losing a bit of his smirk at that thought, he got up and walked over to stand next to her. "I don't think-" Harry crept up next to her. "I'm quite certain-" He put his arms around her and picked her up. "That you're wrong." Harry then dashed out the door with Caisteal in his arms, her screams of protest against his actions were ignored.

Her hysterical cries continued as Harry ran towards the stairs of the Astronomy tower. He ignored her demands to "Put me down!" Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the top, gasping for breath and finally setting her back on her feet.

She gave him a glare that made him recoil back. "What the hell are you thinking!"

Harry, bent over, held up his index finger, asking for a moment to catch his breath. After several seconds, he answered, "My dear, you stopped being a 'magical construct' months ago."

He was really enjoying the confused look on her face. It wasn't one she made often. "How-? What made you so sure?"

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "It was little things. You were growing. I'd guess you're at least 4 cm taller than that first day. Your hair as well as your nails are longer. Also, when you cut yourself helping with dinner that one time, you bled."

She looked astonished. "But even that is all circumstantial. It could have been explained as the Room showing you want you want." , She returned to her glaring. Her demeanor quickly changing. "That still does not explain your confidence that I would not fade away."

Harry was really enjoying being the one with all the answers for a change. One look at Caisteal's scowl had him confessing, "Alright. Alright. Of course I wouldn't risk losing you. Once I was almost positive that you were no longer a magical construct, I got an idea Merlin would've been proud of, to prove my theory." It was at this time he pulled something out of his pocket. Walking over to her, he held it out for her to see. "I've had this on me for the last 4 months, every time I left the Room for provisions."

She didn't think she could've been more surprised than when Harry forcefully removed her from the Room, but here he was, holding a small braid of her hair. He continued, "I figured, if this disappeared, so would you. But since it didn't, I knew I was right."

Unable to contain herself, she lunged and gripped him in a tight hug, "You are right. That was a _brilliant_ idea. I don't understand, though. The Room cannot create life. It goes against the foundations of magic itself."

"I actually have a theory on that"

" _You_ have a theory? About magic?" she asked dubiously with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"I know, right? Anyways, I believe your case is a one-of-a-kind event. We know the Founders were able to give the castle a basic awareness using a combination of soul and blood magic. Add in a thousand years, give or take, of seven ley lines powering that awareness and it evolving into a basic consciousness. Next, we had the Room creating a body and moving that consciousness into it, thus, giving us you, Caisteal. Now, this body was as human as a magical construct could be, it but it was still made of magic. What I feel is important is that it was a fully functional body. You needed to eat, drink, sleep, use the bathroom, and so on. What I think your body ended up doing was using the nutrients from the food just like mine does, to create new cells. Eventually, all the magical cells were replaced with real cells giving you a completely-human body. I do also have other ideas what this might mean for you, but I'm going to hold off on sharing those until I am more certain."

Caisteal looked out over the ramparts, Harry could see she was deep in thought. He asked her, "You do realize what this means, right? You are no longer confined to the Room." She turned around to face him, unshed tears of joy in her eyes. He offered his hand, "Come on, let's take a nice, leisurely stroll around the lake."

* * *

The next week was spent letting Caisteal experience new things. The sun on her skin, the feel of the grass under her feet, the wind blowing through her hair, the tactile sensation of the castle stone upon her fingertips. Harry was extremely amused by her actions, who knew a thousand-year-old castle would be such a big fan of piggyback rides. Knowing it was her favorite place, Harry made sure they camped out under the stars on top of the Astronomy tower, whenever the weather decided to cooperate. His new knowledge of cushioning and warming charms coming in handy.

Time would continue to pass for the two. Three more ley lines settled, allowing for the castle to increase the speed of repairs. By late fall, the third floor was back, and at Caisteal's suggestion, they took up residence in the Headmaster's suite. Harry thought the gargoyle that protected the entrance was a bit creepy. Its eyes seemed to follow Caisteal every time they would pass. After noticing that, Harry kept his eyes open when they wandered the rebuilt portions of the castle. Every once and awhile, pale, blue-white glyphs would appear at her touch, and fade from view just as fast at random parts of the castle.

When Harry pointed the occurences out to Caisteal, she explained that it was the castle showing her how to gain access to that hidden passage, or hidden room of the castle. She showed him an example, using the painting of a bowl of fruit. The words, "tickle the pear" displayed upon her touch. After that, they enjoyed exploring the castle and finding many of the hidden passages. Unfortunately, most would not become accessible until the castle was fully restored. The doors to the Library revealed the phrase; 'Knowledge Shared is Wisdom Gained'.

It was the message that came off the gargoyle protecting the Headmaster's suite that perplexed Harry the most. It wasn't the password for access, though why anyone would pick 'Lemon Drops' as a password really befuddled him, it was the riddle that appeared afterwards. It was in Gaelic, but Caisteal translated it for him;

' _To the last of the last of The Three, speak not of your foe, but of your friend, your equal, who awaits at the end of everyone's journey.'_

The words were accompanied by a strange symbol. It was an equilateral triangle with a circle inside, touching all three sides of it, and a vehicle line cutting through the center of both.

Since this was something Caisteal did not know about, she surmised it was the entrance to one of the remaining Founder's room. They both decided the symbol was the biggest clue to the riddle, but did not recognize it. Harry was certain it wasn't a rune and Caisteal had a vague feeling the symbol predated the castle.

The two of them agreed the answer should be found in the Library. By mutual ascent, they split up and took different subjects. Harry chose Ancient Languages and Obscure Runes while Caisteal chose Symbolism in Magic. After a fruitless search in those areas, they moved to Known Rituals, Warding, and Enchanting. Skipping over the Arithmancy and Potion sections, they checked Astronomy and found nothing. Even a search through the Restricted Section came up empty-handed.

They finally hit paydirt in Magical History, not expecting answers in 'Modern Magical History' as they figured it would be an ancient symbol.

"Apparently, Gellert Grindelwald used the symbol during his rise. Let's see, ' _Before Lord Voldemort, it was Gellert Grindelwald who caused hell in the wizarding world, known especially for his desire to create a global order that would dominate Muggles…' 'expelled from Durmstrang…' 'responsible for the deaths of hundreds of wizards…' 'claimed to have the Wand of The Eldest…' 'Defeated in 1945 by Dumbledore in a duel, rumored to have taken hours…'Imprisoned in Nurmengard by the ICW…'_ " Harry rubbed his eyes after skimming over the book. "None of this tells us what the symbol means though."

"Well, let us go over what we know about it the symbol. The Founders knew of it, so it must be very old. No other mention of was made in the magical history until Grindelwald, so that means it is pretty obscure or forgotten about. Grindelwald used it so it had some special symbolism to him, I would guess power, and when most wizarding folk think of power, they think of wands. So I think we should focus on his wand."

"Okay…. Here we go ' _Grindelwald at Durmstrang_ …' ' _was known for being devious...' 'suspended for injuring twelve students, requiring overnight stays in the hospital wing…' 'expelled for 'twisted experiments' with the Dark Arts…'_ ah, here we go ' _Refused to surrender his wand, 13 ½ in Redwood with Troll Whisker core made by Gregorovitch…'_ That doesn't sound too useful or old. Here's an artist rendering."

He held the book up for Caisteal to see. The wand was of a dark greenish hue, and had three red thorn-like protrusions running along its length. Interestingly, Grindelwald's wand featured a completely unique design. Rather than being a solid wooden shaft, the wand appeared to be a long tapered strip of bark that had been twisted into a cylindrical shape.

"Father, that is not the same wand he has in this picture."

He could see Grindelwald standing proudly while speaking to his underlings, wand clearly visible. This wand was more slender, with three distinct bumps down the shaft.

"No, it is not. That must be ' _Wand of the Eldest"_ whatever that means. I guess we are going to have to dive into wand lore."

' _Woods of the Wand'_ didn't provide any answers, thought Harry did gain some insight into his holly wood wand. They, eventually, did find another clue in ' _Powering the Wand, Substances of the Core'._

Caisteal listened as Harry read, "' _The most difficult core material to use is tail hair of a Thestral…' 'invisible to those who have not seen and accepted death…' 'believed to be well matched to Necromancers (unproven)...'_ and the important part ' _very few Thestral hair wands are known to have been created, but the most well known is the most famous wand in history, The Elder Wand. Legend says this wand, made of Elder wood from the oldest Elder tree, with a Thestral hair core, was created by Antioch Peverell, the oldest of the three Peverell brothers. The wand is said to have no equal, and that it's user would be unbeatable in battle."_ I can see why Grindelwald would want that."

"I think he may have found it. 'Wand of the Eldest' could mean the oldest brother, or the oldest tree."

"I suppose. I was hoping our search would be much easier. Col. Mustard, in the Study, with the candlestick." She gave him a quizzical look. "It's a muggle board game, nevermind. So, back to history?"

She shook her head in the negative, "No, we searched those already. I think we need to find the Peverell family itself. There's a whole Genealogy section in the back of the Library. Wizards love their family history, it should not take too long to find what we are looking for."

Looking through the books was more akin to looking at family trees, with interesting facts if the person did something important. It was Harry's own curiosity with his family that finally gave them answers. He went back so many generations, he lost count, but there was _the_ name; _Iolanthe Peverell._ She had married a Potter, but more importantly, she was the granddaughter of Ignotus Peverell, the youngest of three brothers. More importantly for Harry, it was the notation next to the three brothers that got him excited, ' _The lives of Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus inspired the wizarding morality tale, "The Three Brothers". Presumed creators of the 'Three Hallows.'_ and next to that, was the Symbol they were looking for.


	5. Collections

**A/N:** Thanks to Ozzie & Sfu for looking this over. Spell-check only catches so much.

The Gaelic should be correct, apologies if it isn't.

Got caught up reading a few stories so writing took a back seat. Plus I had a sentence that just killed my thought process. I killed it, moved to the left a bit, and voila, got back on track.

I do not own HP. some lines taken from wiki.

* * *

"' _...Death searched for the youngest brother as years passed but never succeeded. It was only when the third brother reached a great age, he took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. Greeting Death as an old friend, they departed this life as equals.'_ Well, that's an interesting tale." Caisteal placed _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ down on the small table next to her plush armchair. "I think I liked ' _The Fountain of Fair Fortune'_ better."

Harry was sitting in a high-winged back chair, staring into the fire.

"Father?"

He continued to stare into the flames, unaware of her call.

"Father?"

"Do you think that's it?"

"What?"

"The answer to the riddle. Could it be that simple?" She gave him a puzzled look. Not seeing her confusion he continued, "The end of the riddle, ' _speak not of your foe, but of your friend, your equal,'_ and the end of the story, ' _Greeting Death as an old friend, they departed this life as equals.'_ That's too close to be a coincidence."

Understanding illuminated Caisteal's face, "You think the answer is 'Death'?"

Nodding his head, "I do." Standing up with resignation in his features, he turned to face her, "I don't think it will hurt to try."

She stood and, taking his hand into hers, "No better time than now to find out." She lead him out of the Headmaster's suite, through the empty Headmaster's office and down the stairs to stand in front of the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance. She ran her hands over the effigy, once again revealing the password to gain access to the office (now showing ' _Harry's Place')_ and the riddle with the symbol of the Deathly Hallows.

Placing his hand over the glowing icon, Harry spoke, "Death is my equal." Nothing happened much to his disappointment. "Death is my friend. Death is my ally. Death is my friend and my equal." Harry groaned in frustration. "Well, I'm open to suggestions."

"Father, perhaps in Gaelic, the language of the Founders? Try _Bàs_." As soon as Harry said it, the sign of the Hallowes flashed a brilliant white. The gargoyle slid aside like normal, the stairs leading up to the Headmaster's office were still there; however, the back wall behind the stairs was now shimmering in light. The pair approached the glowing wall. Reaching out, Harry attempted to touch the stone, but his hand passed through.

"Uhhh, ladies first?"

Caisteal rolled her eyes, and gave Harry a gentle push towards the wall. Gathering up his courage and taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and stepped through.

Harry felt Caisteal put her arm through his, and he opened his eyes. The room was large and circular. All around the outside wall were pedestals with glass enclosures containing various objects within the displays. Beneath each item was a bronze plaque with, presumably, the name and description of the object. In the center of the room was a small seating area with four well-worn looking chairs. They surrounded, what appeared to be, a workbench. There was a stone basin, covered in runes, sitting in the middle of the table. To the side were several leather-bound books.

He removed his arm from Caisteal's grasp and started to walk around the room. The first case had a black box covered, in what appeared to be Greek runes. The plaque said ' _Pandora bogsa_ '. Next enclosure held a beautiful ornate bow covered in similar runes, ' _Artemis bogha_ ' was written below. He continued past several other displays until he came to the halfway point of the circular room. There he stopped and stared at the three adjacent displays there.

The first case said ' _bata bàis'_ and had a straight, vertical line below it. Inside the glass enclosure was a wand, one Harry remembered seeing in that history book. In the next display was a stone, about the size of a large marble. This one had a circle under ' _sùil a 'bhàis"_. The last case contained a folded piece of fabric that seemed to shimmer in the light. ' _Còta bàis'_ with a triangle was on the inscription below the container.

He could hear them calling to him. A million voices' faint whispering and murmuring was reaching his ears. Drawn towards the three items, eyes glazing over, Harry started to reach for them.

"Father, I think these might interest you"

Pulled out of his trance by Caisteal's voice, and giving his head a little shake to clear it from his reverie, he looked to where she stood, holding one of the books open. "What did you find?"

"I believe them to be the research journals of Godric Gryffindor."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, "Really?" He quickly moved over and grabbed a random book off the table. "Gah! It's written in Gaelic. I can't read this." He looked up, "Looks like you're going to be doing a lot of reading."

"No need"

"No need? So there's nothing useful written in those things?"

"I am sure there are extremely helpful things in these journals. While I could read them all to you or translate them all, that would take a lot of time, and be really boring. I was thinking of letting you read them."

"You're going to teach me Gaelic? I'm pants at English as it is, and you want to teach me a new language. Won't that take just as long as you translating the journals?"

Caisteal shook her head. "Nope. The Founders were truly amazing witches and wizards." She put the book she was holding back on the table and picked up one clearly marked with the Roman Numeral 'I' on the spine. "I'm going to read you the first entry, and you will see. Just... bear with me," she gave a tired sigh, "They apparently had a new toy to play with and they let Godric use it."

* * *

' _And it will write what I say. Amazing! Look at that! It is. It does. Simply amazing Rowena. We really need to see if we can make it write down what everyone says, instead of only one user._

 _Before Kate-Una left the Iona cattle auction with hops.**_

 _This will have so many uses._

 _Alright, down to business._

 _Journal Entr- No Sal, it is NOT a diary! Diaries are for little girls who still dream of riding unicorns and going on Crumple-Horned Snorkack hunts. I bet you plan on leaving nothing down in that 'Chamber of Secrets' of yours. No journals, no trove of hidden knowledge. Knowing your ego, it probably only has a giant statue of your face._

 _Wait! What do you mean 'that's not all that is down there'? You really DO have a giant statue of yourself down there?! HAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, that's too much._

 _I agree Helga, let's get back to it, but I'm now foregoing all the formal stuff you three wanted this done as._

 _No, I am not starting over. I want this captured for posterity._

 _Hellllllo person of tomorrow!_

 _If the Centaurs and the Arithmancy are correct, and combined there's no reason they shouldn't be, you are the last of the Peverells, the last child of Ignotus' bloodline. Not sure how 'alone, but with companionship, they will be the one to reset that stars' makes any sense, but hey, I never bothered to understand the 'Way of the Hooves.'_

 _And a fond hello to our baby as well, hello Hogwarts. Look at you, all grown up. I bet you're as beautiful as a misty morning sunrise over the Black Lake. I hope my riddle wasn't too hard for the two of you to figure out. Rowena wanted me to use something with the answer being 'man' or 'time', but, My room, My riddle. HA!_

 _You may be asking yourself, 'Self, how does he know Hogwarts is walking around in a body free of the castle?' Well let me tell you! It is the only way you could have found the riddle to begin with._

 _Hogwarts has, no doubt, told you how we created the castle, using blood and soul magic. We thought that by giving the castle a bit of ourselves this way, it would allow her defensives the ability to adapt. We did not expect her to gain her own personality. Boy was ol' Sal surprised when the main staircase started to move with him on it. It was a prank I wish I had thought of. Course, he thought I did do it, took Helga two days to remove the antlers. But we are starting to get off topic._

 _Once the Great Hall's ceiling decided to become enchanted and become a display of the outside sky, we knew something extraordinary was happening. It was Helga's insistence that the castle had become aware, and that we needed a way for it to communicate back to us. Using our considerable skills, we imbued one of my old hats with magic. I'm not going to detail exactly how we did it here, maybe in another journal. Yes Sal, journal. Tying all those magics into the main runestone brought the hat to life and gave voice to Hogwarts._

 _Galagars, as it insisted we call him, was indeed both glorious and helpful as his name means, at least at first. He explained that he spoke for the castle, but was not the castle. He was just the intermediary. That relationship worked great after Hogwarts, much to our surprise, was able to adjust her own physical structure and created the secret passages. Oh, Salazar couldn't have been more proud of those secrets if he thought of them himself._

 _No Sal, you only thought of_ _ **one**_ _secret passage, and we let you have it. Care to tell us where your 'Chamber of Secrets' is located?_

 _Anyways, using Galagars, we were able to set passwords and other restrictions on the passages. Can't have just anyone getting in that way. Other rooms we wanted to restrict access to, like the kitchens, headmaster's suite, and what would become the House common rooms, we were able to convince the castle to add her own protections to. It was Helga's idea for the pear, by the way. Owwww. Dammit woman, apples hurt!_

 _After that, Broody McFloopyhat, also known as Galahars, decided he was getting tired of being a mouthpiece. He was quite surly and animate about it. Sal, being the master of mind magics, and Rowena combined their talents to change his purpose. Thus creating the sorting hat and the House system. He still retains his ability to speak for Hogwarts when she really needs to make herself heard. I just wish we could make his singing voice better, Irish drinking songs and limericks should_ not _sound like that._

 _So now we needed another way to communicate with the castle. This time, we all agreed, Hogwarts needed her own voice. How to go about this was debated back and forth. The idea of making a homunculus for her was quickly turned down. It was too dark and too permanent. We didn't think we could put her back into the castle when she no longer had need of her voice. It would, most likely, have killed her off for good. Obviously, that is something we were trying to avoid._

 _It took a lot of experimentation, research, and sheer dumb luck, but we finally figured it out. We created the 'Useful Room'-_

 _Oof, Ow! OW! Stop! Stop! Have mercy Ro- Ow! Helga, make her stop! Please…Sal, help!. I- ow! Was only- oof, joking….._

 _I'm going to need a minute. Helga, can you at least stop the bleeding? Yes Ro, I learned my lesson, again. I am not allowed to name anything. Thanks for the pain-relief potion, Sal._

 _Sorry about the interruption. The Room is really Rowena's pride and joy. She's very protective of it. Now where was I? Ahhh, we created the….. Room of Requirement. I'm still not sure how we actually did it, mind you. I'm sure Rowena could explain it in full detail. (Personally, I was just glad I was able to get rid of that horrible tapestry. I have no idea which previous Gryffindor had it made nor why, I just did not want it anymore.)_

 _We opened the door to find her there; the child that was Hogwarts. The excited squeals of 'Mummy' and 'Daddy' in reference to each of us was really touching. I swear, I saw ol' Salazar tearing up._

 _Being the inquisitive people that we are, meaning at Rowena's insistence, we experimented a bit with the girl. Nothing to cause her harm or pain, I assure you. We discovered that she was indeed a fully magical construct and could not leave the Room. If she did, she would not retain the memories of that session. If we let to room disappear with her in it, then those memories got absorbed into the castle's consciousness, or whatever it is that happens. I have a theory of a way to change that, but the time required to test it was, and still is, not available to us. We were still building the school and repelling the Viking raids took up our time, and now our time is spent running this place. I did, however, take a very large gamble that my idea was correct, and since you are here, reading this, that's means I was right._

 _Only a living version of Hogwarts could show you the riddle that the gargoyle holds and allow you access to this room._

 _We spent time teaching her. We helped her learn to control the power the ley lines provided, creating the glyphs for the passages that only she could cause to show. We each spent time alone with her to impart our own ideas on what we wanted out of the school. I think that helped her assist that damned hat with its sorting. We also made sure, individually of course, that she knew where our secret rooms were and how we wanted them protected. Well, at least Sal and I, the ladies didn't really care if their rooms were secret. I understand of course, why hide a library if you want to share the knowledge._

 _It was Sal, the paranoid bast- err- man that he is, that made a good point. What was to stop someone from using the Room with the need to 'speak to Hogwarts' and recreate our little darling and get her to give up our secrets. While I trust the other three here, yes Sal, even you, I do not trust those out in the world who would use the things in this room for their own twisted purposes. Sal doesn't trust anyone and wanted to keep his room secret from everyone._

 _So there's the problem, how do you make a sentient castle able to protect a space, but not know that it is protecting the space, or even where that space is? Honestly Sal, how did you do it? -Hypnosis, really? Oh, ha ha, Yes very funny. Ol' Sal here won't tell us how he was able to do it, but my guess is a combination of Obliviations and Legilimency. How you do that to a building? That's for Sal to know and the rest of us to be completely ignorant of._

 _One thing we all agreed on though, was we wouldn't do anything without Hogwart's consent. She's our baby after all._

 _Now that the little history lesson is complete, welcome to the Artifacts and Research of Magic Room. As you can see just by looking around, we've collected some neat stuff. Most of them are harmless, but please, don't touch until you find and read our notes on each item. At least, I think we'll leave our notes, it is the plan after all. It'll be so much easier now that Rowena made these dictation quills._

 _Now, Ignatius' super, many, great-grandchild, what will you do with the treasures contained here? It is my hope that you are a good and noble person and will not use the knowledge you obtain for purely selfish desires. At the same time, much of what is in here is very dangerous. Almost all should be kept secret from the rest of the world. It would be too tempting for those who seek power to want to obtain all that is here, not caring for the innocents that are learning the wonders of magic._

 _That should be it. Speaking for- what Rowena? Oh yeah. Forgot about that._

 _Since we do not know how long it will be until this room is found, whether it is a decade after our passing or a millennia, Rowena reminded us there is a good chance the language will be different than the Gaelic we speak. It will probably be very likely. My money is on Norse, those Vikings are quite tenacious. Sal says it'll be something from the continent, since the Romans conquered most of the isle before._

 _Further proof that people working together can do amazing things, because making Hogwarts wasn't amazing enough, we have created a ritual. One we will not be sharing with our students, just you. Helga believes it is too much of a shortcut and takes away the achievements of those who work hard to learn another language. It will allow you to understand any language spoken and written by man. There are tongues we are not sure if it works for as we have not tested it on those yet; Goblin, Mermish, or Parseltongue for example. Sal believes it should, and he's a bit miffed about it. Something about being a Speaker and it being a great honor._

 _Hey Ro, do you ever figure out if it will allow them to_ speak _the language? Still inconclusive? Should I mention the ten percent chance of becoming a deaf-mute? Right, probably shouldn't._

 _Ahh, whoops. Forgot about this quill._

 _Just ignore that. You should have no problems using the ritual. I'm going to stop talking now and I'll let the professional write down what is needed for the rite._

 _Goodbye, I guess. Though you are not really going anywhere, and neither are we. Take good care of our baby. She will help you in so many ways. Learn from her, she is a school after all._

 _That should be good. Sounded good to me. Anything else you three feel I should add?_

 _So how do I make the quill stop?_

* * *

 ** **A/N #2:****

** This sentence may seem weird/odd, but I used it because it is a Pangram that I Googled for Gaelic (translated of course). Original text is _Mus d'fhàg Cèit-Ùna ròp Ì le ob._

For those too lazy to look up what a Pangram is, the most famous is _"The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog"_. It is a sentence using every letter of a given alphabet at least once. I thought it fitting since it would be the first time the Founders used a Dictaquill.

I have a fic to recommend:

Harry Potter, et al, and the Keystone Council by OlegGunnarsson.

It is a fun fic that plays with a multiverse concept very well. Worth a read. Enjoy it.


	6. Speaking of

**A/N:** Still thanking SFU and Ozzie from LeadVonE's Discord server for giving this a once over.

Also OlegGunnarsson for giving me ideas for the ritual, even the suggestions he made that I didn't use, still helped.

Feel free to ask questions in reviews or shoot me a PM. I know there are some things I have glossed over. Some explanation will come in story, others are left vague for your own ideas.

Enjoy!

* * *

Harry sat listening to Caisteal as she read from the first research journal. It was a revelation to hear the way the Founders acted around each other. He never thought of historical figures having personalities, and Godric, apparently, had a very big one. Harry found himself wanting to meet the boisterous founder, as it would be a highly enjoyable experience.

Caisteal finished reading, "Godric was nothing more than a big child. He was also fiercely loyal and dependable, he would fight a dragon alone to protect those he cared about, but you could not trust your drink around him."

"You remember your time with them?"

She nodded, "Some of the memory blocks Salazar put upon me have fallen now that we have read the journal." Closing her eyes, she retreated into her newly surfaced memories. After a short bit, a few tears fell from her eyes. "They were truly remarkable people. I miss them terribly. All these new memories of our time spent together, it's both wonderful and horrible at the same time."

He pulled her into a comforting hug, "I understand. They are, basically, your parents. Unlocking the memories just reminded you how much you have lost over time. It's like losing them all over again for you. I never even got that chance with my parents."

They stood, holding each other, Harry gently rubbing her back. After a bit, she wiped her tear-streaked face, and regained her composure, "I am alright Father. Let us see what we need to do for this ritual."

Harry grabbed the book of the table to look at the needed components of the ritual created by the Founders. Quickly realizing his mistake, he gave the journal to Caisteal. "Forgot it was written in Gaelic," he said with an embarrassed blush.

She gave an amused chuckle while she read over the ritual, "This does not seem too complicated. I think we are going to need a blood replenishing potion- ah yes, it is recommended here. That should only take us two hours to brew. We should make extra, just in case. The core ingredients needed for the ritual should be in the marked cabinet by the door."

For the first time, Harry noticed the two large storage cabinets that were, indeed, by the entryway. He walked right past them when they entered the room. Both had Gaelic writing on the front, presumably to state the general contents of each unit.

"Those cabinets keep everything inside under a stasis charm. The items we need will be exactly as we need them, prepared by Salazar himself. Rowena says to use the Room of Requirement in the Ritual Room configuration for best results. Father, can you duplicate this page?"

After a quick copy spell, they started to gather up the things needed for the ritual.

* * *

Several hours later found the two inside the Room of Requirement. Asking for a place to perform a ritual provided them with a space that felt like a cave carved out of black obsidian. The domed ceiling was reflecting the light of the torches off its glossy, polished surface.

Harry was sitting, crossed-legged, in the center of a pentagram made from his blood, holding an unlit candle. Around each tip, a lit candle was stationed. At the spike of the star in front of him, the first item of the ritual had been placed, vellum made from the skin of a dragon. The next apex had a quill created from the feather of a griffin's wing. The tongue of a basilisk was set at the next station. The second to last point held the ears of an imp. Eyes of an acromantula finished out the star.

Caisteal was checking over the instructions on the ritual, "Father, everything looks good. I think you are ready to proceed."

He nodded. Taking a deep breath, he began his chant, " _Magic of the Aether, I call upon you._ " At this point, the light from the torches extinguished, the only light now being provided by the candles around the five-pointed star, " _I offer these gifts so you may grant your humble servant this boon."_

" _Tongue of the basilisk, allow me to speak the words."_ The flame of the candle flickered green.

" _Ears of the imp, allow me to hear the words._ " The candle's flame turned purple.

" _Eyes of the acromantula, allow me to see the words_." That candle's flame changed to blue.

" _Quill of the griffin, allow me to write the words_." The flame blinked into white.

" _Vellum of the dragon, allow me to know the words_ ," The last candle flashed into black.

He then took his unlit candle and tipped the wick into the each of the colored flames around the pentagram..

" _Flame of knowledge, impart on me that which I seek_."

The flames of the candles burst forth like a geyser, shooting towards the ceiling. They then coalesced into a whirlwind, surrounding Harry in a cornucopia of colored fire. He sat in the middle of the inferno, feeling no heat from the magical fires, and watched as the blaze first stilled, then promptly slammed into his torso. The fires continued to pour into his chest for several seconds, until the flares finally died off, and the candles returned their pre-ritual state. Harry was left lying in the dark room, unconscious.

* * *

The next morning, least Harry thought it was morning, he could not remember where he was, or how he got here, wherever _this_ was. The pounding headache and sore throat were definitely making themselves known. Taking stock of his surroundings, he realized he was still in the Room of Requirement, in the same bed from the first night he met Caisteal.

Seeing her over in the kitchen provided by the Room, he called out, _What time is it? Are you making breakfast or lunch?_

After getting no response, he climbed out of the bed. He became puzzled. There was a complete absence of sound. Caisteal must have heard him get out of bed, however, since she was approaching him. He found he couldn't hear anything at all, but he gathered from her concerned look and what looked like the word _you_ coming from her lips, she was asking, _how are you feeling?_

 _A bit of a headache, sore throat, but otherwise I feel fine. What are you making?_ He thought he replied, but based on her reaction, he understood what the issue had become. He asked the room for slate and chalk, and simply wrote on it; _Can I go back and hurt Godric?_

He was now deaf and mute.

* * *

Either the boisterous founder played a cruel joke, or the Founders' calculations were a bit off, but by dinner that evening, Harry had regained his hearing and his ability to speak. The two senses didn't return gradually, it happened all at once, startling Harry, who had just started getting used to the sound of absolute silence.

After dinner they returned to the Artifacts and Research of Magic Room. Harry was relieved to that the ritual worked as advertised, he could now understand the Gaelic writing on the display cases. The cabinets by the entrance said 'Miscellaneous Supplies' and the other read 'Journals, Diaries, Pensieve Memories'. He didn't know what a pensieve was, or why it had memories, but the journals were quite interesting. Learning that the Greek Pantheon were powerful wizards and witches didn't surprise him, yet learning that Pandora's Box was an early attempt at an expansion charm was. The legend coming to life after a boggart decided to make the box its home.

Harry and Caisteal would spend the next couple of days learning the history of many magical objects. The 'Eye of Horus' was an ocular device that allowed the user to see magical wards and the ambient energies of the ley lines. The Egyptian Pharaoh Khufu apparently used it to position his pyramid on the convergence of three of them.

Even Thor's hammer and the Founders' own creations had journals about them. There were so many different books about items Muggles thought of as mythical or sent from the Gods of the time. Norse, Greek, Egyptian, and even a few from the Orient.

The information on the three items Harry was desperate for, appeared to be missing. There was no book on any of the Hallows. He did learn that the stone basin on the workbench was a pensieve. Caisteal had found what was apparently the owners manual. It was one of the few books not written by any of the Founders. Harry experimented with his own memories reliving his first meeting with Caisteal, right up to the part where he passed out.

Rummaging through the pensieve cabinet, Harry came across a locked box tucked into the back of the storage cabinet. The outside of the small chest had the symbol of the Hallows, but this symbol was surrounded by a snake. The ouroboros pulsed with magic when he touched the container. Moving the case over to the table, where Caisteal joined him, they continued to study it.

Upon touching it, the snake said," _I only_ open _for a noble speaker_."

"What do you think a 'noble speaker' is?"

She gave him a confused look, "Father, that is an odd question to ask. I do not understand how knowing that will help us open the box."

"The snake just said… You didn't understand the snake, did you?"

She shook her head. "No. I do not speak Parseltongue, all I heard was the sound of a snake hissing. Salazar must have enchanted this case. He was a parselmouth, and very proud of it. He used to enlist snakes to get back at Godric for his pranks." She had a sly grin as she remembered one such occurrence. "I imagine he thought of it as a Noble language."

"I guess that answers the question whether the ritual works with Parseltongue."

"Are you sure, Father? Have you tried to talk to snakes before?"

Harry thought about it. He had seen plenty of snakes, but it never occurred to him to talk to one, or that it could talk back. "I guess not," he admitted.

Caisteal chuckled, "Though I'm sure it _was_ the ritual. People who can speak snake are very, _very_ few."

Harry looked back at the box and spoke with dramatic flair, "Open Sesame!" waving his hands over the box for effect, but nothing happened.

"Father, that was English."

"I don't know. When the snake spoke, it sounded like English to me. I didn't even notice it was different. I'm open to any ideas."

Caisteal brought her hand to her chin, "Perhaps focusing on the snake, and pretending it is alive? Or maybe touching the snake?"

Harry stared at the image of the snake, willing it alive in his mind's eye. Once he had the image, he hissed, " _Open, please_."

The ouroboros started to spin around the Hallows in a counter-clockwise motion. Each time the head spun past the apex, the click of a tumbler inside the box could be heard. After four full rotations, the top of the box popped up.

Harry reached out and lifted the lid. Inside were glass vials containing a smokey, wispy substance. Each tube marked with Roman Numerals, apparently to indicate the order they were to be observed. Lifting the first little bottle, Harry turned to Caisteal, and with an exaggerated bow, asked, "Would you like to join me, my dear?"

She laughed at his aloof behavior. She started to nod, but something in her mind seemed to change. "I would like to join you, but something feels like those memories are for you and you alone."

"I bet Salazar put a small compulsion into your mind when he was removing the memories he wanted hidden, just in case. That is probably what you are feeling."

She nodded, "Go on, Father. I can keep myself busy until you are finished."

Harry turned back to the pensieve, watching the smoky substance of a memory slowly churning in the liquid of the rune-covered stone basin. Leaning over, he put his face into the pensieve, and fell into the memory.

* * *

Harry landed at the edge of a large, cavernous room. The poor lighting was not allowing him to get a good look at his surroundings. From what he could see, there were lines of snakeheads on two sides of a walkway that led off into the darkness. He was standing in front of a very large stone face, surrounded by a moat of dark water with a stone bridge ending just below the statue's mouth. If he had to guess, Harry would say the water was very cold, but in the memory, it held no substance.

Next to Harry was a large, ornate desk of dark wood. Various parchments and quills were spread over its surface in some semblance of organized chaos. There was a small mirror, about the size of his hand, propped up facing the occupant of the desk. The man was sitting in a large, dark green leather chair.

The man had to be Salazar Slytherin. His hair and goatee were streaked with grey. His face had the worn look of time upon it, but was not of old age. His features were stern, but not unfriendly. Harry was drawn to his eyes. While they seemed full of life, Harry could see pain and mistrust within their depths. He was wearing very expensive looking robes. Each finger was adorned with rings, and with its own gemstone, no two having the same stone. Finally, a locket made of black-gold was adorned around his neck.

Before Harry could continue to observe more, Salazar began to speak.

"This seems so absurd. I do apologize in advance if the presentation seems wanting. I am no bard and do not particularly enjoy orating.

Welcome to my inner sanctum, my Chamber of Secrets. I feel rather juvenile sitting in an empty room talking to just myself. To assist myself in this endeavour, I have brought a mirror and will be speaking to my own reflection. If Godric were to ever find out I am doing this, I would not hear the end of it. I love the man like a brother, but he can behave extremely childishly.

Rowena, Helga, and Godric do not know I am creating these memories. The information I am providing you, I feel, is too sensitive in nature to spread, even to the those that I trust above all others.

Speaking with the centaurs is very difficult, as they tend to speak in metaphor and can be very cryptic. Godric does not have the mental capabilities, nor the patience to take the time to understand what they are saying. It does bring me much amusement to watch him interact with the herd, for thinking is not his strength. He is far more likely to charge in, full sprint, than step back and think of other options for he is all bravery and strength. With his lineage, that really is no surprise. I will have to elaborate, but at a later time. There is much more we must cover first.

These journal memories that I am creating are the result of many conversations with the centaur herd. I would share those memories with you, but it will be simpler to just summarise here.

 _Beyond the end, the last of the last of three touched by Death will be the one to go around more than twice. Guided by those not met, companion to one that did not exist. The one will call upon the magics, ancient; using relics, hidden. Only by knowing the story not told will their path be set. The one, will reset the wheel. Yet success may be fleeting, for nothing is assured, and change is evermore._

It took me a while and quite a bit of research, but I believe I have gained an understanding of what the herd was trying to convey, as it is both prophetic and yet, variable.

I believe you live in a world that has had encountered catastrophes. I believe you are alone, except for Hogwarts, for you have found her biggest secret. You would not have found the box containing these memories, otherwise. I further believe that you will need to learn the real story of the Peverell brothers.

Antioch was indeed the oldest, Cadmus was the middle child, and Ignotus was the youngest. Each one had their own ambitions and ideals, but each had different ideas on how to obtain them.

Antioch believed in power by strength. Cadmus believed in power by knowledge. Ignotus, the humblest of the three, believed in power by family.

Each, on their own, were magical prodigies. They were able to do things with magic no one had ever seen before, or since. Even Myrddin, as powerful as he was, was not as gifted with magical knowledge as the three. When they combined their talents together, it was rumored, they could redefine the laws of magic.

During one of the times of their collaboration, the Hallows came to be. This is the part of the story the brothers kept absolute silence on and much speculation has been made since because of that. They entered a ritual room, and depending on what version of the story it is, either called forth the magical manifestation of Death out of the aether and were gifted the Hallows, or created the items out of the pure magic of the aether. There is a more fantastical story that they, themselves, created the magical manifestation of Death and to compensate them, Death granted them the Hallows.

The three _true_ Hallows are; the Stick of Death, the Eye of Death, and the Coat of Death.

* * *

Harry was unceremoniously ejected from the pensieve after the last revelation. Caisteal must have left while he was watching the memory as she was not around. Looking to where the three items were sitting under glass, he wondered if they were the _true_ Hallows, and what Salazar meant by that. Collecting the memory currently in the basin, and rebottled it. Harry then grabbed the next vial, eagerly looking forward to the information contained within.

* * *

After the harrowing fall provided by entering the pensieve, Harry was surprised that he was not back inside the Chamber of Secrets. Looking around he appeared to be in a bedchamber of an opulent manor. The nearby fireplace providing a warm glow alongside the many candles around the room. It could not have been any more opposite of the Chamber of Secrets.

The very large bed was ordained in thick sheets and large pillows cocooning a slight figure. Harry could see the woman was very sickly. He was getting confused on why he was here, until he heard a man's voice, "Mother, I received your summons and returned as quickly as possible."

It was Salazar, as a much younger man. There was no grey in his hair, and Harry did not see any of the pain or mistrust in his eyes that was present in the first memory.

"Son, it is good you have returned so quickly. The healers say I may not last the week, and there are things you must know about our family history."

"I do not understand, mother. I have learned well the history of the Slytherin family."

"Yes, you have done well, but it is time to learn of my family. Please place the best privacy charms you know around us." Salazar waved his wand, adding the requested charms. "Thank you. Listen well, and lock this behind your strongest Occlumency shields.

"We are of Peverell blood. You are the last of Cadmus' line until you have a child of your own. His tale is the one you _must_ learn, for it was Cadmus who discovered the true power of the combined Hallows. They could send him back to an hour before a person's death. There is a lot you can change in an hour, and yet, it is not enough time. Using that power, he was able to travel back to the time of his wife's death. Yes son, _that_ is the true power of the Hallows, the power to change the past. That power comes with a price, however, and Cadmus paid for it.

"According to Cadmus, you are thrown into your past self, limited by the magical power you possess at the time. Once the hour is up, you are sent back to the moment you left, but if you are successful, things will be different. Cadmus had returned with two seperate sets of memories for all the years in between. He was unable to keep them both separate and it began to drive him to madness."

"Why did he not use his Occlumency to keep the memories apart?"

"Occlumency has only been around since Myrddin and Morgana created it together, my son. The tale of the Peverells was already a legendary tale by then.

Cadmus was terrified of the power he had discovered within the Hallows. Fearing someone with ill intent finding a way to gain from their use, he was able to convince the other two to hide and protect the Hallows. Devising a plan, they went to their workshop next to the raging river of the legend. It was there they created functional copies of the Hallows. While powerful in their own right, the new Deathly Hallows were still pale imitations. Antioch had created the Elder Wand, Cadmus the Resurrection Stone, and Ignotus the Invisibility Cloak.

After hiding away the true Hallows, telling no one, not even each other the whereabouts, they imbued upon the newly coined Deathly Hallows magics that only one of Peverell blood can use. Those magics could lead one of their descendants to the true Hallows, but only if their intent is pure.

It is at this point where the story of the Three Brothers begins in our legends.

Antioch became too arrogant and boasted about the strength of the Elder Wand, he was murdered for it in his sleep.

Cadmus, already descending into madness, had lost his wife again, but to disease. The use of the Resurrection Stone to be with her, increased the pain of his loss and his sanity until the day he took his own life.

Ignotus lived a long and fulfilled life. Passing on the Invisibility Cloak to his eldest son.

* * *

Harry was once again unprepared for the return trip out of the pensieve as he fell onto his bottom. After getting up and dusting off said bottom, he proceeded to replace the memory back into its glass vial. He zealously grabbed the next tube in the sequence and dove back in.

* * *

 **A/N:** Yeah, I'm going to end it there. I really wanted to finish the trek of the true Hallows, but the chapter was getting too long and I really wanted to get this posted. It's not my best work, and for that, I am sorry.


	7. Making Friends

**A/N:** Thanks again to the guys looking this over, you know who you are. ;)

Yeah, if you are looking for a quickly updated fic, this isn't going to be for you. I'm quite lazy, and easily distracted… squirrel!

Not to mention, I just couldn't get this chapter going. Decided to just try to do what I could and move on.

* * *

Upon re-entering the pensieve, Harry found himself, again in the dimly lit Chamber of Secrets. Salazar was there, pulling a silver strand of memory from his head and dropping it into a glass vial. Putting the stopper in, he placed it into a very familiar looking box, one with an ouroboros on the front.

"My mother's telling will be better than anything I can impart. She died three days after telling me of my link to the Brothers. Course, I myself am probably long dead and forgotten by the time this memory of it is watched."

With a resigned sigh, Salazar took a ring off his finger and placed it on the desk for Harry to see. His gaze settling on the etched symbol cut into the onyx stone, the triangular shape of the Deathly Hallows.

"This is the Resurrection Stone. It has been passed down by my family since Cadmus gave it to his daughter. She was told the tale by her father. She then passed his story and the stone to her daughter, and so on until it was told to me. I do not believe I will be able to give it to my son, nor tell him the tale. He has forsaken me and all I believe in. He is without honor, covets only power, to my shame.

But that is a tale for another time.

There are a select few who also know of the true tale; the other descendants of the Brothers. One is the last of Antioch's line, and will be the last as he and his wife were unable to sire any children. Another is a child of Ignotus, a member of a brave and honorable family that continues to see itself at the front of many conflicts, protecting the innocents. I worry that the desire, the need to protect others may cause an early demise before the tale is passed on. That is why I feel these memories must be left.

My tale continues as I assisted in defending these lands against the Vikings hordes…"

* * *

"So Salazar met Godric while repelling a Viking raiding party?"

"Yup"

"And after that same battle, one of your ancestors, a Hardwin Potter, convinced the leader of the Viking raiders to stay and put down roots?

"According to Sal."

"And gave them the name Longbottom and they would eventually help fund the creation of this school?"

"Along with the Potters, Blacks, Ollivanders, Selwyns, and Prewetts. They all sent resources and monies to help. They even shared some family spells to increase the curriculum."

"Yes, but from what you have told me, Salazar, Godric, and Hardwin, being the descendants of the Brothers, decided to bring and hide the True Hallows inside the school."

"Only after they found out how easy it was for the three of them to locate the True Hallows. Course, being Peverells probably made it much easier. They seem to pull us to them. They do it to me. The three agreed the Hallows needed a stronger, more secure hiding spot. Hogwarts is a formidable, defensive, fortress that is not easily breached. The original plan was to hide each Hallow in a different part of the castle, but that changed after Rowena figured out how to create 'wizard space'. After that, it was simple enough to create a room, magic the door so very few could access, and hiding it all away. Having the castle, you, gain sentience, just added another layer of security."

"Do you believe the power of the True Hallows helped create me?"

Harry shook his head, "I don't think so. Now, I can't say for certain, I mean, I suppose it's _possible_ , but I think it was more of a... happy accident. The Founders did something that was never tried before, or since. I do believe the power of the _sùil a 'bhàis,_ combined with the sheer amount of magic in the air, _might_ be responsible for the ghosts. After all, there is no other location where the concentration of ghosts was as high."

"What else have you learned? I am curious at what the differences between the True Hallows and the Deathly Hallows are."

"That memory was quite the experience, since Sal, Godric, and Hardwin were all drunk. The three of them were discussing this exact issue. I'm not sure how accurate it is, but it must be as he included it in the group of memories explaining the Hallows.

"The Cloak of Invisibility vs the _còta bàis_. Hardwin said the Cloak is able to take a detection charm cast upon it. He himself cast a few onto the cloak. He didn't want his kids to use it and hide from him. You can still hear and smell someone under the cloak. However, the _Còta bàis_ will not hold any magic. It will hide you from _everything_ , even keeping your scent and any noise you make from escaping. Using the _Còta bàis_ even makes you invisible to wards, both perimeter and area ones. The Cloak can't hide you from area wards.

"Now, the Elder wand versus the _bata bàis_. The Elder wand is said to be unbeatable right? Except, we already have proof that it isn't. Remember, Dumbledore beat Grindelwald in a duel, took hours, but he did outduel him. It's not invincible. Also, the Elder wand will transfer its allegiance to the winner. The _bata bàis,_ however, cannot be defeated, _and_ it will reject anyone not of Peverell blood. Godric, drunk as he was, was quite adamant about that.

"Finally, the Resurrection Stone against the _sùil a 'bhàis._ The Stone can pull a shade of a person from beyond the Veil, even against their will, and it has to be someone the user knew. The shade will be uncomfortable, even in pain, and will want to return as quickly as possible. The _sùil a 'bhàis_ can pull the soul of anyone who is willing back, making them a ghost, without the physical, well, metaphysical pain of returning to the mortal plane. Any emotional pain would still remain. It also has the power to send a ghost past the Veil. That doesn't include the power the True Hallows have once combined."

"And the Deathly Hallows do not do anything once combined?"

"Despite what the legends say, they don't."

"And you plan on using the ritual Cadmus used? How did Salazar learn of it anyway?"

"It was the one and only time he used any of the Hallows, True or Deathly, despite the temptation. He called up Cadmus' soul and asked him directly. Cadmus only agreed once he had seen the protections they had set around the True Hallows." Harry sat up straight in the leather chair. "Once I get my Occlumency to the level required to sort memories, I don't see a reason not to go through with it. There's no one else out there. There's nothing to lose by trying to change things."

"And how long do you think it will take you to reach the mastery required?"

"Well, according to the books, it could take up to a year of practice to get that far, but I think that estimate might be taking in consideration the person has other things to do during their time. We don't' have to worry about that, so I believe it could take about half that."

* * *

Harry was pulled away from his memories buy the gentle snores of Caisteal. He didn't notice that she had nestled into his side, falling asleep against him. He put his arm around her and laid back, holding her close and conjuring a light blanket to keep the cool mid-October breeze off the two. He would let her sleep. She was worried about what he was going to do, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't. He was going to perform a ritual that, as far as anyone knew, had only been used once, based on the memory of a person from a thousand years ago, who got it from a dead guy. ' _Yeah, seems safe enough, what could go wrong?_ ' Harry thought with a chuckle. ' _It's not like the other untested ritual you went through had any side-effects, right Godric?'_

He wiggled a bit to get more comfortable on the hard ground, casting a low powered cushioning charm underneath the two of them to soften it up, pulled Caisteal a bit closer and held her a bit tighter. He watched the puffy white clouds drift by, pushed by the late Autumnal Scottish winds. It didn't take long until he too drifted off into a content slumber.

* * *

Halloween. All Hallows Eve. Samhain. The Day of the Dead, Whatever you call it, October 31st is the day believed to be when the boundary between the world of the living and the world of the dead is the weakest.

Inside the Ritual Room created by the Room of Requirement, Harry was kneeling at the base of the symbol of the Hallows, painted on the floor in his own blood. The lines were about the width of his thumb, the points of the triangle, about three feet apart. The shimmery fabric of the _còta bàis_ folded neatly into a triangle, in the center of the large symbol. Resting on top of the material, mirroring the line of blood representing it, sat the _bata bàis_ , and on the wooden wand lay the _sùil a 'bhàis_ , perched on an unperceivable indentation in the timber.

Harry was doing his best to ignore the sounds of a million faint whisperings and the pull to pick the Hallows up. Not sure what to expect, he took a deep breath and began his chant to start the ritual. The torches around the room extinguished, plunging the room into complete darkness, and the voices went silent, startling Harry. Everything seemed to stop.

" _D-death who takes all, through the power of the Hallows, hear your humble servant_."

The blood symbol of the Hallows began to emit a soft, red glow. Just enough for him to see the lines of the glyph.

" _Death who takes all, I offer you back that which the three brothers were given_."

The temperature of the room dropped past freezing. Harry could see the edges of the symbol begin to crystallize.

" _Death who takes all, grant your servant a boon of the aether. I seek the power to return a soul that you now possess, back to its mortal coil."_

A wind started to circulate around the room, just beyond Harry and his ritual site, gaining strength with each passing second, until a violent gale was blowing through the room, yet no sound was created by it.

" _Death who takes all, judge my request. Allow your favor to fall upon it_ "

Everything stilled once again. The cold in the air dissipated. The blood-red glow of the symbol of the Hallows faded. Harry was once again plunged into absolute darkness. Yet in the blackness, Harry could see shadows moving, shadows even darker than the absence of light. The shadows began to coalesce a few feet past the spot where the peak of the triangle was, fusing together to form a large, swirling oval; a portal.

Harry was given enough time for one breath before something started to emerge from the gateway. It seemed to melt out of the vortex forming a figure cloaked in the same blackness. He couldn't see under the hood of the shadowy robes, draped across the large-framed specter. The being was emanating power as it drifted silently towards where Harry was on his knees. He could feel its penetrating gaze as it fell upon him, judging him. He was glad he was able to convince Caisteal to stay outside of the room for this, having no idea what this manifestation would do.

The presence ceased its forward movement, and offered a subtle nod of its cloaked head. Quicker than Harry could blink, the specter grabbed him around his throat and neck with, what Harry would later describe, as a skeletal hand, lifted him up off his knees and continuing until he was completely off the ground, so that Harry's eyes were even with where its eyes would have been. Its gaze once again locked into Harry's eyes, it gave another nod, turned and launched Harry unceremoniously into the swirling abyss.

* * *

 **A/N #2** : So the ritual is somewhat based off of LeadVonE's necromancy ritual. I asked and got permission to use it and some of the lines are his. Big thank you to him for allowing me to use it. If you haven't read his story yet, I do recommend it: Dodging Prison & Stealing Witches.

The bit about Potters/Longbottoms comes from "I'm still here" by kathryn518 . Probably my favorite fanfic, I'm told it's still active, but it's been quite some time since the last update.


	8. First Time

**A/N:** Thanks to all who read and enjoy. We are now getting to the meat of the story. I really enjoyed writing this chapter, once I get past my block.

Another thanks to sfu for looking my story over. Honestly, no matter how many times I look it over, scrutinize each sentence, there are still grammatical and spelling errors all over the place.

* * *

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was a sight to be seen. Jack-o-Lanterns were floating above the house tables lighting up the entire room. The enchanted ceiling was, as usual, showing the night sky, the waning crescent moon continuing its slow drift across the starry expanse. It was the decor for the Halloween feast.

Eleven-year-old Harry Potter was sitting alone at the end of the Gryffindor table, picking at what was on his plate, with no appetite. He wasn't in the mood to celebrate like the others in the hall. It was the anniversary of the night his parents were murdered, of him becoming an orphan. There was nothing for him to celebrate.

His time with his relatives forced him into a shell, making it very hard for him to connect with people. Add-in everyone wanting a piece of the Boy-Who-Lived, and Harry went further into himself. He kept everybody at arm's length, not befriending anyone. The closest person he would consider a friend was the person sitting next to him, Neville Longbottom, but even then, it was mostly because he was quiet and timid and didn't bother Harry.

The other three boys in the first year boy's dormitory grouped together, and ignored Harry completely.

The girls had their own cliques as well. Lavender and Pavarti gossiped together everywhere. Fay Dunbar and her friend always seemed to go exploring the castle when not doing their homework. Hermione always seemed to have her head in a book, something the other Gryffindors seemed all too pleased to tease her about.

Thinking about the bushy-haired bookworm, Harry realized he had not seen her since just after Charms class when Ron Weasley decided it was a good idea to be extra mean to her and she went running off with tears in her eyes. With a quick glance, Harry confirmed she wasn't at the feast.

Over the din of the hundreds of students, Harry thought he heard someone whisper, what sounded like, his name. Looking up from his plate, he looked around. Seeing no one paying him any attention he returned to his brooding while poking at the food on his plate with a fork.

The whispering returned a moment later, just a bit louder. Harry, once again, looked around to see if he could find the source, but nothing stood out. Meanwhile, the sound of the whispers was quickly increasing. It was starting to drown out the usual din of the Great Hall.

Panicked, Harry tried covering his ears, but the voices were still there. They crescendoed until the whispers were all that he could hear. Harry had a faint sense there was something approaching him, something intangible, but couldn't concentrate past the noise to feel out what. The whispers were so loud it was beginning to hurt. Closing his eyes in pain, he pressed his hands even harder over his ears. In the next moment, the voices went silent, and darkness overtook Harry's world.

* * *

Harry kept his eyes closed, completely ignoring the sounds around him. The darkness he had just emerged from was slowly receding from his mind. He felt small, and weak. Giving his head a little shake to clear it, he opened his eyes.

He was sitting in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, but not as he last saw it. The room was now full of life. The voices of children, their laughter washing over his ears was completely different than the empty room it was before. He couldn't help himself, Harry starting laughing and in a whispered voice said, "It worked! I'm really back."

A small, timid voice next to him spoke up, "H-H-Harry, are you alright?"

Harry looked over at the small, pudgy boy sitting next to him. Smiling and nodding he replied, "Yeah, uhh," he struggled to remember the boy's name, "N-Neville, I'm fine."

A small rumble from his stomach got Harry's attention. The smell of the food on his plate called out to him. He began eating with gusto, delighted in the taste of the hot meal, something transfigured food just doesn't quite have. It had been so long since he had eaten something this well prepared. After his fourth large bite, realization finally hit him, the reason he was back here.

A student was going to be killed in less than an hour.

Harry dropped his fork onto his plate with a loud clatter. As quick as he could, he stood up and left the Great Hall without running. He didn't want to get stopped by a professor, that would waste more time, time he didn't think he could spare. Figuring he had spent at least five minutes getting his bearings, and another five to ten minutes enjoying the food, he knew his time was already ticking away.

Once he cleared the doors of the Great Hall, Harry sprinted to the main staircase. He was surprised to see the stairs aligned perfectly for where he remembered he needed to go, the 2nd-floor girls lavatory. He'd have to remember to thank Caisteal later.

Running up the stairs two at a time, Harry went flying around the first landing banister. Not paying attention, so focused on getting to his destination, he barreled headfirst into the gut of a professor. A brief, intense flash of pain from his scar flared, then receded into a dull, stabbing pain, took Harry by surprise. It had been quite some time since he last experienced that particular sensation.

"Mr. P-P-P-P-Potter," the professor wearing a purple turban spit out, with a bit of a wheeze to his voice, "W-W-Where are y-y-you rushing o-o-off t-t-to?"

Harry quickly thought up an answer, one that wasn't even a complete lie, "I'm sorry, professor. I'm on my way to the loo." He started to shift his weight back and forth from one leg to another, "I have to go really badly."

"T-then I won't keep you," the professor made a shooing motion with his hand. Harry turned and continued up the next flight of stairs.

Harry didn't see the sneer or hear the professor say, "Take your time, Mr. Potter," before he turned and headed towards the Great Hall. "You'll be enjoying company really soon."

Harry had a nagging feeling he just missed something important as he continued to run up the stone stairs. As he reached the second floor, he stopped to catch his breath. There was something about that professor, but Harry didn't have time to dwell on those thoughts. He turned left and took off down the corridor to the girl's bathroom.

He wasn't sure what to expect, so Harry knocked on the door and opened it just enough to call inside, "Hello, anybody in here?"

His call was met with silence. "Umm, I'm coming in."

Harry pushed the door open and stepped inside, ready to close his eyes at a moments notice. There was a row of sinks on one side of the bathroom, and a row of stalls on the other. He contemplated looking under the doors of each stall to locate his quarry, but the sound of flushing caused him to pause.

There was a loud 'click' in the now silent bathroom. The door to the second to last stall opened and a small, brown-haired girl emerged. He could see her eyes were red and puffy, she must've been crying for a while.

The young lady proceeded to the sinks and started to wash her hands. As she started to dry her hands, and Harry cleared his throat. She went rigid, at the sound. Slowly turning, her bloodshot eyes going wide at the sight of him.

"What are you doing in here?! This is the _girl's_ bathroom!" She crossed her arms across her chest and gave him the best glare a twelve-year-old girl could give.

Harry cringed a bit at the volume of her voice, and withered a bit at her look. "Ummm.."

"If you're here to make fun of this little know-it-all bookworm, you better do it now."

"Wha-"

"I'm done. You all have made it quite clear you don't want me here. I'm going to owl my parents tonight and have them take me home as soon as possible."

"Hey, I-"

"I don't know why I thought it would be different here. But it's the same here just like at my last school. It's full of immature adolescents who don't care about their education."

Harry was impressed with the girl's rant. He was trying to remember the girl's name. It was something Shakespearean, he was sure. Ophelia? Juliet? Helena?

"They should know their education is important. It's what determines what we can do for the rest of our lives. Without an education-"

Finally remembering her name, Harry interrupted her, "HERMIONE! Relax. Take a breath."

This shocked the girl. Hermione regained her composure, and returned her glare back to Harry. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing in the girl's bathroom?"

Harry chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "I would've, but you didn't give me a chance to answer. I'm here because you're in danger. Something is coming that will be the cause of your death."

She gave him a disbelieving look, "Honestly Harry. Hogwarts is the safest place in wizarding England. Everyone says that. It's even mentioned in 'Hogwarts: A History'. I mean, it's a silly claim since Hogwarts isn't in England, it's in Scotland. They should say 'safest place in Great Britain' or 'the United Kingdom'. But that doesn't change the fact that it's supposedly safer than the Ministry of Magic. Even Gringotts-"

"HERMIONE!" Harry had to yell again to get her attention. "Even the safest places can be dangerous. Look, how 'bout we continue this lovely debate back in the common room?"

Realization on where they were hit the bushy-haired girl. "Right. This is the girl's bathroom. We should get you out of here before someone sees you."

She surprised Harry by grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door. Before they could get more than two steps, the door crashed into the room, blasted from its hinges. Lumbering in behind was the ugliest thing Harry had ever seen. A ten-foot troll had stumbled in, standing between the preteens and the only exit. The large beast was carrying a club that could easily be described as half a tree. There was still a few green leaves attached to the end of it.

While Hermione was ruining Harry's eardrums with her high-pitched scream of terror; his memory recalled, from his first year, what he had missed earlier with the professor.

' _Troll! Troll in the dungeon.'_

Harry ruminated on the sight of the troll, ' _but why would the professor know there was a troll in the dungeon when it's right here? He was coming down the stairs, not up. There hasn't been enough time for him to-'_ He dodged a swipe of the club from the lumbering behemoth, taking the screaming girl out of way with him while drawing his wand from his pocket.

Putting all the clues together with a shout of, "Son of a-" before having to dodge another attempt at his life from the troll.

While the attacks were missing the monster's main target, it was doing a wonderful job of redesigning the bathroom. The first two stalls had been completely demolished along with half the sinks. Water was flowing freely from broken taps and rubble of various sizes was strewn about the room.

The troll gave a frustrated bellow and swung its club as hard as it could. The path of the weapon was unexpectedly clear of any obstructions causing the monster to spin around, unbalanced, on one foot. Harry's mind flashed back to the time before he met Caisteal. With a quizzical thought, he looked at the troll and asked, "Oz? Is that you?"

An angry roar was the response. Shaking that thought away, "Okay, enough is enough. _Stupify, Diffindo, Reducto!"_ Each spell flying from his wand. Harry was expecting his usual bright ribbons of energy that came from his casting, but instead, they were pale strips of color. They splashed against the troll's skin. His cutting curse doing the most damage, leaving what could be generously called, a papercut.

Hermione regained her ability to think. With a shrill shriek still added to her voice, she called out, "Harry! That's a mountain troll. Its skin is magic resistant. Most adults don't have the power to hurt one."

Harry looked at his wand, muttering, "Right. Back to the magical power of an eleven-year-old, forgot." Hermione heard him and gave him a thoughtful look, trying to puzzle out his meaning.

"Alright, Hermione, start hitting it with the debris laying around. Use the levitation charm and try to drop it on the troll's head. I'm going to try to knock him down or trip him up. We need to get it on the ground. _Incarcerous!_ " A rope, no thicker than dental floss, shot out of his wand and wrapped around the creature's legs, snapping as soon as the troll took a step.

Harry let out an audible growl of frustration, while Hermione was dropping pieces of rubble on the monster's head. Nothing large enough to do damage, but enough to keep it distracted.

He thought about helping Hermione and start levitating larger pieces of debris, but he didn't think that was going to stop the troll. They needed to get it off its feet. Seeing the amount of water on the floor, he got a crazy idea, one that even with his limited power, he should still be able to pull off.

"Hermione, I got an idea. Levitate the largest piece of rubble you believe you can lift. Get it over its head and hold it until I tell you to drop it." He got a firm nod from the concentrating girl.

Picking up a sharp piece of porcelain from what was left of a sink, ducking another attempt on his life from the troll, Harry turned around and made swift, jerking wand movements, " _Glacies, Glacies, Glacies, Glacies!_ "

Harry's aim was true as the water under the troll's feet froze, three inches at a time per cast. He kept casting until most of the floor under the beast froze. Hermione, after getting Harry's signal, dropped the large piece of debris onto the beast's head. The blow made the troll stagger backwards and slip on the ice now under its feet. With a roar and a large thud, the monster was now on its back.

As soon as Harry saw the troll start to fall, he was moving. He jumped on to its chest, and plunged the shard of porcelain as hard as he could, into the beast's throat.

Harry watched the lifeblood start to flow from the troll's neck. He was so focused on the red fluid, he didn't see the arm of the troll that knocked him across the room. He did feel and hear the bone in his arm break, and the stars entering his vision were quite distracting.

Getting to his knees was more of a struggle than Harry would ever admit. Hermione was at his side by the time he had stopped rolling, and was helping him to his feet. They both watched, amazed, as the troll attempted to rise. They could see its lifeblood gushing from the neck wound.

Halfway to its feet, the large troll collapsed back to the ground. It tried to rise again, before falling again. This time, it didn't move. The preteens heard one last exhale of a blood-filled breath pass its lips before it stilled for good.

Hermione was the first to move. She ran into the last remaining stall and proceeded to retch into the porcelain bowl. Harry wasn't sure if it was from the sight of the now dead troll, the realization that she almost died, or the quick comedown from the adrenaline rush. He followed her, and gently rubbed her back as she continued to dry heave.

Once she calmed, she asked, "Harry, h-how did you know? How did you know there was something like that coming to kill me? Why aren't you bothered by the fact WE COULD HAVE DIED!" The poor girl started shaking.

He calmly walked over to the last, undamaged sink, transfigured a piece of rubble into a cup, filled it with cool water and gave it to the shaken girl. He resumed his ministrations on her back. During the whole process, he was thinking about how to answer her. So focused on his thoughts, he didn't notice the quiet whispers.

She took a sip from the offered cup, "And how are you able to do those spells? I've read all the books for first year, none of those spells are in there and you said you grew up in the muggle world, so you didn't learn those before we got here."

He ran the hand not rubbing her back through his hair, trying to think of a good answer. It was then he noticed the whispers getting louder. "Crap. I'm sorry Hermione, we're going to have to talk about this another time. I-I need to get out of here."

The sounds of the whispers were beginning to crescendo as Harry quickly moved to the door, giving the body of the troll a wide berth, just in case. As he got to the door, he came face to face with a stern-looking older witch, whose eyes were wide in astonishment.

Looking around she saw the destroyed bathroom, the troll lying in a pool of blood, and two students covered in small cuts. "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger! My word! What is the meaning of all this? What happened here?" The older woman demanded.

The whispers were now to the point Harry could hear nothing else. Covering his ears, thinking he knew was about to happen, all he could do was mutter, "Oh bugger," before his mind went black and his body collapsed onto the wet floor.

* * *

As Harry's mind cleared from the blackness, he was confused. He was lying down, in what he assumed was a bed. He opened his eyes and saw the sterile, white ceiling above him. The sudden light of open eyes made his head throb, and he let out an audible groan. The loud voice that came after didn't help his headache any.

"Madam Pomfrey! He's awake."

The witch in healer's robes was already moving towards the bed, almost like she knew Harry had woken up.

"Good evening Mr. Potter. How are we feeling?" The medi-witch began casting diagnosis spells on her patient.

"I'm fine. Bit of a headache, but that's it."

The healer gave a bit of a nod, grabbed a potion from her supplies, "Drink this. It will relieve your headache. Other than magical exhaustion, a broken arm that has already been fixed, and some minor scrapes, you appear no worse for wear. A good night's rest should have you back on your feet."

"A most fortuitous diagnosis, Poppy," At the entrance to the infirmary, Headmaster Dumbledore had just entered, "considering the circumstances. And a good evening to you, Miss Granger. Now, Harry my boy, could you please enlighten us with what transpired tonight. I'm told it was quite the harrowing experience."

"I'm sorry, sir. The last thing I remember is sitting down to dinner, and then nothing."

"That is…. disconcerting. Poppy, may I have a word?"

As the two adults moved to Pomfrey's office, Harry turned to Hermione, who was sitting in a chair next to his bed.

"Hermione, why are you here?"

"Honestly Harry, you don't remember? You saved me from a troll. You _killed_ a mountain troll."

Harry ran his hand through his hair, "Yeah, I'm not sure I could do that. Aren't they really dangerous, and magic resistant? What'd I do, climb on its back and shove my wand up its nose?"

She shook her head, brown hair flailing, "No, you froze the water, I knocked it down, and you shoved a piece of broken sink into its neck. Harry, you were casting spells from fourth year. I had to look them up. How do you know how to cast those spells?"

"I-I don't. You know more spells than I do. I really did all that?"

"Harry, I'm alive because of you. No matter what, I'll help you figure it out." She took his hand into hers, "We'll find out what happened to you. I figure I owe you that much at least."

* * *

 **A/N** : BIG thanks to OlegGunnarsson for helping me make Quirrel more menacing, believe me, its WAY better now, and for helping me set the start of the chapter. I just couldn't get it the way I liked.


	9. Fallout

**A/N:** Thank you for the reviews and the likes/follows.

Still need to thank sfu for looking this over. It is much appreciated.

So the long hiatus, yeah, sorry. Found some good stories to read, plus the holidays. Add in family life...

Also, just didn't feel like writing. Add in that I couldn't figure out how to go forward. Don't know if you know this, but writing is hard.

I can't promise to be better, but I will try.

Please note: I am not planning on doing any pairings. This isn't a relationship fic. There may be hints of romance, but nothing 'on-screen ', per cé. Mostly it's because - I don't know who I would pick.

Enjoy.

* * *

Harry slowly regained consciousness; his head pounding in rhythm with his heartbeat. Gently opening his eyes, he saw the familiar sight of the Hogwarts infirmary ceiling. That feeling confused him. Before today, he couldn't remember a time he had been in the infirmary. With a groan, he sat up while rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate his migraine as Caisteal appeared around the privacy screens.

"Oh good, you have awoken." He winced as her cheery voice went booming through his throbbing head, "Oh, sorry, I take it you have a bit of a headache? Allow me to fetch you a potion."

After she disappeared behind the screen, Harry scooted back to rest against the headboard of the bed. Something was different. He couldn't think clearly enough with his headache to even attempt to figure out what. Caisteal reappeared moments later with a vial in her hand. After downing the whole concoction in one gulp, his headache immediately, yet slowly, began to abate.

"Father, were you successful?"

He smirked, "Yeah, that was... an interesting experience."

Harry slowly stood up, stretched, and walked around the screen, Caisteal following close behind. Taking a look around the infirmary, he spied four cots that appeared to be occupied placed against the back wall. The prone figures having a white sheet covering each of them completely.

His curiosity taking control, he approached the closest bed, and lifted the sheet, disturbing the accumulated layers of dust on top. Underneath was a boy of about eleven years, dressed in Gryffindor robes. His mousy brown hair was stiff and his brown eyes were open in shock, as if something surprised him. His hands were up near his face as if they were holding some object, maybe something he was reading. Reaching out, Harry touched the boy's skin. It was cold and stiff, like it was made of stone. All the while, the pounding in Harry's head was returning.

Harry moved to the next bed and removed the sheet. The boy laying there in Hufflepuff robes was in a similar state as the first. His curly hair was just as still, and his expression held the same surprise as the other boy.

Divesting the blanket off the third bed revealed a young girl in Ravenclaw robes. She was several years older than the two boys and Harry could easily identify the prefect badge pinned to her robes making her at least a fifth-year. Her expression wasn't one of shock, but of curiosity mixed with fear and anxiety.

The pounding headache had now returned in full force. Harry could feel something slamming into his occlumency barriers, from the inside, but he didn't know what.

He turned to Caisteal, "What happened to them?"

"You do not remember?" He shook his head. "They were petrified by unknown means."

"And they were just left here! Couldn't anyone cure them?"

"The Professors had fresh mandrakes and were getting ready to brew the restorative, but then the Heir returned, bringing a Basilisk through the school. Many died that day. After that, events outside the castle became such that these four became after-thoughts and were eventually forgotten about. They have remained here since."

By the time Caisteal finished telling the tale of woe, Harry's occlumency barriers were being assaulted with enough force that would rival a rampaging erumpent. It was getting to the point that his vision was getting obscured by black spots.

Harry approached the last bed, unsure and afraid of what he would find. He grabbed the white cover, and in a tempest of dust, yanked the covering off the last victim.

She was laying on her side in Gryffindor robes, her arm extended out in front of her. A small pocket mirror held in her hand. Her other arm pressed tightly against her chest. Her brown hair obscuring her face from where Harry was standing. He walked around the bed, and leaned over to get a better look.

As soon as he saw her face, his eyes went wide in shock. With a cry of "Hermione!" his occlumency barriers were shattered and memories cascaded into his mind, overwhelming him. He blacked out again, blood trickling out his ears and nose.

* * *

Harry could feel the soft grass under his arms, the gentle breeze cross his face. Opening his eyes yielded the purple and dark blue of a fabulous Hogwarts twilight sky. In the darker end of the heavens, the stars were twinkling, spelling out 'Harry's Awesome Place'. With a groan, he stood up.

Now realising he was in his mindscape, Harry began his trek up the path to his version of Hogwarts, where he kept his memories hidden. After a few steps he paused at the sight in front of him. The castle was there in all its splendour, however, a second castle seemed to be flickering in the same location, overlapping the current Hogwarts, both keep fighting for dominance over the space. Slightly confused, Harry sat down on the crushed gravel path and began his occlumency meditation.

Once he got into what he called his 'builder state', he began waving his hands in the air. Conducting the space in front of him, he moved one of the castles. Placing it so the keeps were about a hundred yards apart at the closest point, he added a new path from the main trail in front of him.

The main path to the large wooden doors of the original castle now forked. Gazing down the path less travelled, saw the new building sitting in the waning sunlight. Curious on why there was now a second Hogwarts, he stood up and walked to the new fortress.

At the massive oak doors of the new stronghold, Harry glanced at the first Hogwarts, it seemed to flicker out of existence for but a moment, so fast, he wasn't sure he had seen it. Concentrating on his mindscape, he willed the sun to rise a bit higher in the western sky to illuminate the castle a bit better. It looked a bit… fuzzy around the edges. The stone walls appeared as if they were being eaten by termites.

'Looks like I need to spend some time doing some more repair work in here as well.' Turning back to the doors in front of him. 'Alright, let's see what's behind door number two!'

Walking through the entrance hall, everything seemed to be as it should, least if this was the Hogwarts he built, the other one. He continued his pace until he entered the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling was showing the static that a television would show if no signal was being received, instead of a slide show of Harry's favourite memories of picturesque scenery. Well, there was one that came from a postcard, but the premise was the same.

Shaking his head, he went to the tan leather Lay-Z-Boy in the middle of the vast, empty hall. He sat down, and reclined back, pulling the lever to move the foot rest into position. Lifting the padded armrest to reveal a hidden storage area, he pulled out a television/VCR combination remote. That was the secret to his memories. Only someone who was familiar with modern muggle tech would know how to work the remote, and Harry was sure those that know legilimency, wizards, wouldn't know how to use one.

Pressing the 'PLAY' button, the static changed. The ceiling was now showing two sets of moving images, right on top of each other, overlapping. Harry could see bit and pieces, but not enough to tell what was being displayed.

He paused the show. Putting the footrest down, Harry leaned forward in the chair, pressing his palm against his forehead, using his fingers to rub back and forth. He sat like that for a while, trying to think of a solution.

With a snap of his fingers and an exclamation of "Aha!", Harry took the remote, grabbed both ends, and gave a quick tug. The controller expanded just a little bit, and a new button labelled 'PIP' popped into existence.

Settling back into a reclined position, he rewound the show. Pressing the new button, the image on the ceiling split into two seperate boxes. On both 'screens' was Harry, sitting at the Gryffindor table inside the Great Hall, picking at the food on his plate. He recognised it as the night of the troll attack. Pressing the Play button, the scenes began to move. By focusing his attention to each screen, Harry could 'feel' how he felt and 'hear' what was going on around him at that moment in the memory.

For several seconds, both images were exactly the same. It was the one on the right that ended up being different. It was showing Harry as he heard the whispers, looking around the hall, while the other image showed Harry still sitting, picking at his food. As the scenes progressed further, the right screen went black.

"Huh?… Oh! That must've been when I, that is me, future me, took over. So, the left side is showing how everything went without my little trip, and the right side is showing the changes. I can see why Cadmus would've had issues. If these changes had hit all at once… I can only imagine the amount of pain and confusion. At least with occlumency, I can sort through them and keep them separate."

"My subconscious mind must've prevented that by creating this second Hogwarts and trying to repress the new memories. Guess there's nothing to it but to see the changes and watch the new memories."

Harry watched the memories on the left while the right stayed black, remembering Quirrell running in screaming about a troll in the dungeons, being lead back to the dormitories, Professor McGonagall entering later informing them of the death of a student.

The screen on the right faded back in, slowly gaining focus. There was the hospital bed, Hermione making her promise to help. The memories displayed continued along those lines. Hermione helping him with his homework and spell casting, days in the library researching possessions, medical amnesia, magical savants, and anything else either of them could think of that could explain Harry's sudden knowledge, abilities, and then lack of memory to that Halloween night.

Those memories made Harry chuckle at their youthful ignorance.

The screen on the left, meanwhile, showed a sole figure, sitting alone at meals. A beaten-down Harry getting picked on by the older students, and most of the Slytherins. A withdrawn Harry getting more isolated, pulling back from even those that would help him. Just… existing.

Focusing more on the right-side, Harry watched and re-lived his life through his first year. A constant gentle nagging from Hermione, pulling him around by his proverbial ear. Her steady companionship allowing him to lower his barriers built by being raised by the Dursleys, and open up a bit to the others around him. He became better friends with the other quiet boy in his year, Neville, both of them coming out of their shells, if ever so slightly.

With this slight persona change, Harry was able to see the Weasley twins' jokes as the harmless pranks they were, as opposed to the hurtful, mean-spirited jokes they seemed in the left screen. He was enjoying his time at Hogwarts. Even the taunts from the Slytherins no longer bothered him.

Harry watched his new adventures from first year.

Flying lessons with the Slytherins was fun to watch. Malfoy had been holding his broom incorrectly, apparently, for years. Neville shot off the ground just like the first time, but this time, Harry was able to fly after him (much to Madam Hooch's protests) to keep the pudgy boy from falling and embarrassing himself.

Christmas break found Harry alone in Gryffindor tower with just the Weasleys for company as the rest of the Gryffindor tower had gone home for the holiday. This allowed them to become friends. Lots of games of Exploding Snap, Wizards Chess, and Gobstones were played. The twins even managed to get Harry to join in pranking Percy.

Asking Ron if he ever apologised to Hermione resulted in the boy getting defensive, but Harry explained that it was long overdue as his actions almost got her killed. A contrite Ron promised to do so as soon as she got back.

Waking up Christmas morning showed this Christmas being so much different than all the others before, he received a gift. A simple card stated it was something that had belonged to his father. Ripping apart the wrapping, excitement building at getting something of his parents. With a bit of disappointment, he found himself the new owner of a fancy old cloak. After donning it, Ron, while eating a large pile of candy sent from home, called Harry's attention to his missing body. It was an invisibility cloak.

Harry explored the empty castle most nights after dinner during break using his new gift. He found many unused classrooms including one with a large, ornate, ancient-looking mirror. When he looked into it, Harry saw himself standing in front of his parents. They looked extremely proud of him. There was also a young girl, probably a few years younger than him, standing next to his reflection. He thought she might be the sibling he always wished he had, but her kaleidoscope eyes, grey-blonde hair, and her features did not match his or either of his parents.

The next night, he brought Ron and the twins. Ron saw himself as Head boy and Quidditch captain. Fred saw him and George standing in front of their own joke shop, a copy of the Daily Prophet between the two claiming, 'Weasleys buy out Zonkos.' George saw himself sitting in the Great Hall after successfully pranking the entire school, even the Professors got caught, including Dumbledore.

Too soon, break was over, and it was back to school routine

In early Spring, Hagrid had acquired a dragon egg. He was quite excited to finally have a dragon of his own, until Hermione pointed out it was illegal for him to have one during one of the pair's visits. Harry and Hermione, with the twins' help, smuggled Hagrid's newly hatched dragon out of the castle to a waiting dragon preserve worker. Getting caught by Professor McGonagall on the way back, after a successful mission and getting detention, put a damper on the night.

Hagrid took their detention as repayment, but taking them into the Forbidden Forest to help find what had been killing unicorns wasn't their idea of getting off easy. When the blood trail they were following split in the woods, Harry and Hermione split off with Fang, Hagrid's faithful Boarhound, while the twins went with Hagrid. The two friends ran into a cloaked figure hunched over a dying unicorn. The wraith-like creature noticed their presence, turned to attack them, but was chased off by a small group of centaur warriors before it could attack them. The leader of the small herd's gaze appeared to look right into the eyes of Harry in his mindscape recliner.

" _Honoured child of fate, the stars have been changed by your hand and our herd is in your debt for what you have not yet done. But be warned, the stars say your work is not yet complete. Mars still shines upon you, as Pluto remains in its shadow."_

* * *

Harry paused his memories, put the leg rest down, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Great, just great. Mars and Pluto… War and Death… nothing new there for me. Seems like my life has been nothing but that."

* * *

 **A/N** : Not really how/where I wanted to end it… but it's been sitting too long.

Going to recommend another fic here:

Basilisk Born - by Ebenbild.

It is VERY good, not complete yet, It's a bit confusing the first time through, but once you understand what's going on, it becomes amazing.


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